Saturdays at Two
by MegaNerdAlert
Summary: Minerva bit her lip as the inner debate about what was appropriate raged on. Three seconds later, her desire to spend time with the young Gryffindor won out. "Saturdays at two?" She blurted. "Here, tea?" Hermione looked back toward her Professor, and after a moment, she nodded, and a soft smile played on her lips. "I'll be here." MM/HG Warning: underage sex. DLDR.
1. Chapter 1

**I swore I wasn't going to write another multi chap for a while...but 3000 odd words into my planned one shot covering snippets of Hermione's Hogwarts years...and it's only end of first year. Each year promises to be just as long, so it looks like you guys are getting a seven or eight chapter fic here.**

**Not that you lot will complain much about new MM/HG...**

* * *

**First Year**

_September 7, 1991_

Hermione Granger strode purposefully toward Professor McGonagall's office. When the nearly twelve year old had started at Hogwarts she had set herself a schedule which allowed for time to spend with friends. However, since she didn't seem to be able to acquire any of those, she figured she ought to fill the time with extra schoolwork. So far her favorite class was Transfiguration so she was set on asking her Head of House for additional assignments.

She knocked on the large wooden for smartly, and after only a moment she heard a voice call from within. "Enter!"

Hermione opened the door, meeting her teacher's gaze a moment later. "Do you have a minute, Professor McGonagall?" she inquired.

"For you Miss Granger," the older witch smiled, setting aside what she had been working on, "always."

Hermione blushed, pleased that her favorite teacher knew her by name only a week into term. They had only had her in two classes so far, after all. "I was wondering if I could have some additional assignments for your class. I have some free time in my schedule which I felt would be best spent getting ahead in classes I am most interested in."

"Free time that you had slotted to spent with friends you are finding difficulty making?" Professor McGonagall inquired quietly.

Hermione found herself looking down at the floor, trying not to cry. How could McGonagall know her so well already? Suddenly she saw a pair of black boots and the hem of emerald robes. "I don't understand what I'm doing wrong," the girl muttered.

"Look at me, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said, Scottish brogue evident.

The young Gryffindor summoned her courage and looked up at the woman who she found herself liking more and more each day.

"You are doing nothing wrong," Professor McGonagall stated firmly. "Building relationships take time, and you have only been at Hogwarts a week."

Hermione sighed, feeling reassured. She had spent the first eleven years of her life feeling like a freak, but when she had received her Hogwarts letter she suddenly had hope of fitting in. Her first week of school had yielded no evidence to support that idea, but if Professor McGonagall thought there was still a chance...

"Don't try to fit into a box, Hermione," Professor McGonagall advised, as if she'd read her mind. "Just be yourself."

"Okay," Hermione whispered.

* * *

_November 2, 1991_

Minerva McGonagall could not begrudge Hermione Granger the opportunity to make friends, finally, but lying could not go unchecked. She would not punish the girl or her two new friends any more than she already had over the troll nonsense, but she would have a private word with Miss Granger about the lie. She knew why the girl had been prompted to say what she had, but she did not want it to become a habit.

The Transfiguration Professor walked out into the courtyard as the clock struck two. She saw Granger, along with Potter and Weasley, sitting near the bridge up ahead. She strode forward, suppressing a smirk as Potter and Weasley noticed her approach and had become decidedly wide eyed in fear. She saw Potter nudge Granger, and when the girl turned and noticed her Professor coming, she smiled brightly. "Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall," Hermione greeted.

"And to you," Minerva replied. "I was wondering if I might have word with you, Miss Granger. Care for a walk to the lake?"

"Absolutely," Hermione replied. Minerva thought that this girl was entirely too pleased to be called aside by a teacher, especially on a Saturday.

She told the boys she'd see them later in the Common Room and then moved to follow Minerva. After they were out of earshot Minerva spoke. "I'd like to talk to you about what happened on Halloween, Miss Granger."

Instead of stuttering in fear as Minerva had expected, Hermione just sighed. "Yea, I figured as much."

Minerva stopped walking. "Excuse me?"

"Well, you are very smart, Professor," Hermione replied. "I was honestly surprised you didn't call me out for lying sooner. Will I be serving detention?"

Minerva chuckled. "No, Miss Granger. I have no intention of punishing you further. I understand why you lied. I simply do not wish for you to think it is acceptable to lie to me on a regular basis. I want you to trust me."

The girl looked at her curiously, taking in what Minerva had said. "Yes, ma'am." She whispered.

* * *

_January 4, 1992_

Hermione was glad to be back at Hogwarts, although it had been nice to see her parents over Christmas. Two things had surprised her during the break, however. First, she had noticed how much more profound the differences between herself and her muggle family and friends were, now that she was actively interacting with the wizarding world. Secondly, she found it a bit disturbing that she missed Professor McGonagall even more than she missed Harry and Ron over the break. What was it that made her Head of House so...appealing?

In light of the second revelation, Hermione had gotten Professor McGonagall a Christmas gift, belated though it may be, and was now approaching the older witch's office to give it to her. She knocked on the door after checking the time to ensure her Professor was finished with the seventh year open office time she slotted for each Saturday morning. Two 'o' clock. Yes, she'd been done for a couple hours now, and had time for lunch.

"Enter!" Professor McGonagall called.

"Hello, Professor," Hermione greeted softly.

"Hello to you, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall smiled. "I didn't expect to see you till class on Monday."

"I just wanted to give you this," Hermione said, holding out a medium sized, neatly wrapped box. "A bit late, but Merry Christmas."

Professor McGonagall looked surprised, if not stunned, which Hermione realized she should have expected. Regardless the older woman took the package and began unwrapping it. A few moments later, the paper fell away to reveal a hat, scarf, and gloves, all in a matching tarten print. "These are wonderful, Hermione, thank you very much."

"You're welcome, Professor," Hermione smiled. "I'm glad you like them."

* * *

_April 18, 1992_

Minerva had never before questioned her actions toward a student before now, but as she prepared to step inside the Gryffindor Common Room, she hesitated. The moment she had heard that Hermione Granger would not be going home for the Easter break, Minerva had felt an overwhelming urge to ask the twelve year old girl to tea. It wasn't as if Hermione was the only one to stay over Easter - many students did - but for some reason it seemed to Minerva that if Hermione was staying, there was something wrong with her home life at the moment, and if that was true, then she wanted to offer Hermione her support.

Granted, Minerva knew she could, be totally off base. Perhaps Hermione just wished to stay with her friends, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Both boys were also remaining for the holiday. On the other hand, Minerva's instincts told her that Hermione was hurting. She had seemed very unsure when she'd signed her name on the list of students staying. What was really bothering Minerva about all this was how connected she felt to this particular child. They were so much alike after all. Someday Hermione would be an adult, and she would be the exact type of person Minerva would love to be friends with. Why not lay the foundations of such a friendship now? There was nothing wrong with that, right?

Minerva huffed at herself and stepped into the Common Room, eyes quickly scanning till she located the bushy haired girl. "Hello, Hermione," Minerva said, clearing her throat.

Pretty brown eyes shot up from the book they had been reading. "Professor?"

"Where are the boys?" Minerva asked casualty, trying to express without words that she was not here in an official capacity.

Hermione relaxed, and smiled ruefully. "Quiddich Pitch."

"And you are here because?" Minerva inquired.

Hermione set her book down and eyed Minerva for a moment before replying. Getting stared down by a student - a first year at that - was a bit unsettling for the elder witch, but she held Hermione's gaze and awaited her response. "Do you mean to ask why I am not with Harry and Ron, or why I did not go home for the holiday?" the girl asked firmly.

Normally that kind a cheek would land a student in detention, but despite all reason, this particular student seemed well on her way to having the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts wrapped around her finger.

"Both, I guess," Minerva muttered, taking a seat next to the girl. "I just don't want you to be lonely...and if you did happen to want some company... I thought you might want to come to my quarters for tea."

QUARTERS? Minerva snapped at herself. What happened to tea in her OFFICE?

Hermione grinned, an uncharacteristically sly glint in her eye. "See? That wasn't so hard, Professor. There are so rules against a teacher being friends with a student. I checked. And yes, I would love to have tea with you. In fact, I'd enjoy doing so on a regular basis."

Minerva balked. That insolent little chit! How utterly Slytherin of her. "Are you sure the hat sorted you correctly?" She muttered, still stunned.

Hermione smirked. "Muggleborns don't do well in Slytherin, if that's what you were thinking. The hat considered placing me in Ravenclaw, but it said my _future was in Gryffindor. _I do wonder what that meant...

Hours later the pair stood at the door of Minerva's quarters, bidding a good evening. As Hermione turned to go, Minerva bit her lip as the inner debate about what was appropriate raged on. Three seconds later, her desire to spend time with the young Gryffindor won out. "Saturdays at two?" She blurted. "Here, tea?"

Hermione looked back toward her Professor, and after a moment, she nodded, and a soft smile played on her lips. "I'll be here."

* * *

_May 9, 1992_

Hermione sat across from her Transfiguration Professor, nestled comfortable in a large arm chair by the fire in the older witch's quarters. The last few weeks of having tea with her Head of House had been times of joy for the young Gryffindor. The two talked about everything from academics to life in general. Hermione shared with Professor McGonagall all of the things she didn't feel she could tell Harry and Ron, like her troubles at home, for example.

When she'd gone home for the Christmas holiday, her parents had been rather distant. It only took a couple days for Hermione to realize why; the look in her mum and dad's eyes when she spoke of the spells she had learned already was fear. Hermione was twelve years old, and her parents were afraid of her because she was a witch. She tried to put on a good face, pretending not to be aware of their feelings, but behind closed doors it hurt deeply that the cost of fitting in somewhere was losing her parents. When Easter break had rolled around, Hermione had decided that it was not worth two weeks of uncomfortable glances to go home, and so she'd stayed. She was hoping that over the summer she might be able to educate her parents a bit more about the Wizarding world and put their fears at rest. After all, most fear was borne out of a lack of understanding.

As far as her growing relationship with Professor McGonagall, Hermione's thoughts were less clear. She knew she cared about the older witch, but while logically it should be the type of caring that is associated with a surrogate parent, Hermione did not believe that was what she felt toward the Scottish witch who currently sat across from her.

"A Knut for your thoughts, Hermione," Professor McGonagall said casually.

Hermione sipped her tea, allowing for a moment of consideration before replying. "I was thinking about my parents," she said softly. "I'm not sure how to address their fears about magic, as they won't confide in me about it."

"Give them time, my dear," the old woman advised. "You have been able to see first-hand that magic is nothing to be afraid of, but their only exposure was when I came to your house to explain you were a witch. You went to Diagon Alley on your own, right?"

"Yes," Hermione confirmed, frowning. She'd asked her parents to go with her to get her supplies, but her father's cutting reply of _'if you're old enough to go off to a fancy boarding school, you can sort out your own shopping'_, still hurt when she thought about it.

"How are you doing on school supplies, anyhow?" Professor McGonagall asked. "I could show you how to Owl order anything you need, if you're low on quills or parchment. Merlin knows you use plenty of both."

Hermione blushed. "Well…"

"It's alright," the older witch whispered conspicuously. "I was the same way when I was your age."

Hermione resisted the urge to giggle, mind drifted back to what had caused her interest in Minerva McGonagall in the first place. More than eight months later, the Sorting Hat's words still rang in her head.

_"Difficult to place, you are. Sharp enough mind for Ravenclaw, loyal enough for Hufflepuff, logical enough for Slytherin, and brave enough for Gryffindor. So where to put you, eh? Muggleborns don't do well in Slytherin, and I sense your loyalties are changing by your parents' betrayal. You'd do well in Ravenclaw, though the love of your life, your future, is waiting in GRYFFINDOR!" _

Hermione had thought it was a bit ridiculous that a ratty old hat was predicting who she might fall in love with, when she grew up, but less than a year later Hermione gulped as a possibility surfaced in her mind. What if Professor McGonagall was her future?

* * *

_June 6, 1992_

Two 'o' clock came, and passed without Hermione showing up for she and Minerva's weekly tea. Hermione had never missed a Saturday with her, and besides, it was unlike the girl not to tell someone who was expecting her if something came up. Needless to say, Minerva was worried.

She guiltily thought about her encounter with Hermione and the boys this morning, in which they had barged in to her office and declared that someone was going to steal the Sorcerer's Stone. Besides the fact that they were students and it was none of their bloody business, Minerva had been sharp in her reply because Hermione had never once spoken of the trio's interested in the Stone. There was no way they had discovered its existence in the course of the last week – in fact it probably took them most of the year to find anything on it. Yet, in however long they'd been nosing around, Hermione had never once confided in her. And that hurt – a hell of a lot more than she knew it should. Hermione was a child, after all, and however mature she may act, it was unreasonable for Minerva to expect adult judgment from a not even thirteen year old girl.

Minerva cast a _tempus_ charm for the fifth time. Two forty. The gnawing feeling that something was wrong was overbearing. The Scottish witch knew she shouldn't worry – there was nothing in this castle that could cause them real harm…except the obstacles guarding the Sorcerers Stone…

They wouldn't have gone for the Stone, would they have? Minerva wondered. No…Hermione wouldn't be that foolish…

But Harry Potter might…and Ronald Weasley certainly would…

And Hermione was with them.

"Bloody hell," Minerva said to no one. "That girl is going to give me a heart attack!"

With that, she sent a quick patronus to Albus to advise him of the warning the trio of first years had given her, and then set off to find Severus. Like it or not, she knew she could use the dour Potion Master's backup if the children really were in trouble on the third floor, or worse yet, already in the bowels of the castle.

* * *

_June 13, 1992_

"You're not still mad at me, are you?" Hermione asked her professor warily, stepping into the older woman's quarters for their weekly tea, and noting the less than subtle huff from Professor McGonagall. "It's been a week…"

"Since you about gave me a heart attack by going after the bloody Sorcerer's Stone?" Minerva snapped. "Hermione, going after a troll, lie that it may have been, was foolish enough! What on earth made you think that a trio of first years could take on a bunch of enchantments made by seasoned experts in multiple fields, not to mention the threat of whomever was trying to steal the stone?"

Hermione flinched. Last week's tea had never happened, as she and the boys ended up in the Hospital wing for the rest of the day after saving the Stone from Quirrill. Professor had been stern enough in her rebukes already, but this was the first they'd been alone, and it was obvious now that the Deputy Headmistress was not quite ready to 'let it go'. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to worry you, but we did try to tell you…"

"And I didn't listen…" Professor McGonagall sighed. "For that, _I_ am the one who is sorry. I should have known that you, of all people, would not have presented your concerns if you weren't certain they were founded."

"Yes, you should have," Hermione agreed softly.

"It's odd, Hermione," Professor McGonagall said, beckoning the girl to take her usual seat. "Sometimes it's obvious how young you are, and other times you act the part of a full grown adult, speaking to me as if we were equals…and for some reason I don't mind."

"No detention for my insolence then, Professor?" Hermione asked, lips quirking upward.

Professor McGonagall laughed. "No, my dear. Besides, term is up in a few days. There would hardly be a point. Speaking of, what are your plans for the summer?"

Hermione looked sad. "I don't suppose we'll be able to continue our weekly meetings…"

"You might try and at least pretend you're excited that term is over," the older witch said pointedly.

"Oh yes," Hermione replied, voice filled with sarcasm. "I might also pretend I'm going home to parents who don't fear their daughter."

"Hermione…" Professor McGonagall said tenderly. "Is it really that bad?"

"It was at Christmas, which was why I stayed for Easter," Hermione said honestly. "However, I'm hopeful with more time to spend with them this summer, they'll come around. I'm just afraid of how uncomfortable the holiday will be if they aren't willing to try and understand."

"Well, I'm an Owl away, if you should need to talk," the Scottish woman offered. "Though I will be optimistic and believe that you'll be having so much fun at home that you won't give this old witch a second thought until classes resume in September."

Hermione laughed. "You won't get rid of me that easily, Professor."

* * *

**Please review! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Second Year is up! Enjoy! **

* * *

**Second Year**

_September 5, 1992_

Hermione expected the password to Professor McGonagall's quarters had changed over the summer. She'd only Owled her Head of House twice over the holiday; first to vent about how her parents were still acting like a couple mice in a room with a cat, and second to ask her mentor a question about the summer Transfiguration homework. The Headmistress replies had been short and to the point, and Hermione wondered if the open invitation for tea on Saturdays had only been valid during the course of that year.

Regardless of her hesitation, Hermione had arrived outside of Professor McGonagall's quarters promptly at two 'o' clock the first Saturday into term. Taking a deep breath, she knocked quickly, and for a moment she felt like she was back where it all began, though it had been the older witch's office door she'd been knocking on then.

The door opened a moment later, and Hermione was greeted by her professor with a smile. "I'd hoped you'd come today," she said.

"I wasn't sure if our Saturday arrangement extended past last term," Hermione admitted.

Professor McGonagall shrugged. "Who am I to break a tradition?" she said. "Come in, my dear. Tea should ready here shortly.

Hermione entered, and dropped her bag by the door like she always did. "So how was your summer, Professor?"

The older witch didn't reply right away. She quietly poured each of them a cup of tea, and Hermione waited patiently for her mentor to reply.

"Hermione…if you'd like…you can call me _Minerva_, when we're having tea on Saturdays," she finally said.

Hermione was startled by the offer, but pleased. "Thanks," she whispered. "Well then, _Minerva_, how was your summer?"

The use of her given name by Hermione had a startling effect on the Transfiguration Mistress, the young Gryffindor noticed immediately. There was a twinkle in her eye as the older witch shrugged off her outer robe before taking a seat, and with a flick of her wand, her traditional tight bun fell apart and rewound itself into a long French braid. In the space of only a few seconds, Hermione watched Professor McGonagall vanish, and Minerva McGonagall appear.

"It was busy, but not unpleasant," Minerva finally answered. "Albus had more pressing matters, which left me in charge of all the pre-term work. There were a lot of muggleborn first years starting this term, so that meant I had quite a few trips to make out of Scotland."

"Hopefully the families you met with are more open to magic than my parents are," Hermione mused. "Though if you tell me which new students the muggleborns are, I might be able to offer some support to those with families like mine."

"That's very thoughtful," the older witch commented. "Are your parents still holding onto their fear of magic?"

Hermione sighed. "Yes. It boggles me to think that they find it easier to push away their only child than they do to simply be open minded. I'm not asking them to suddenly think magic is great, even if that's how I feel, I just want them not to fear it!"

"There really isn't a rhyme or reason to who takes an introduction to magic in stride and who has difficulty adapting to the concept," Minerva mused. "My mother put off telling my father – he was a muggle – that she was a witch until my elder brother began showing bouts of accidental magic. She was afraid of his reaction. When she finally told him, he reacted much the way your parents are…he didn't off and leave us, but he did become distant, and I remember the fear in his eyes."

"I didn't know you had a brother," Hermione said, hoping for more details on Minerva's life beyond Hogwarts.

"I had two brothers, actually," Minerva said with a sad smile. "Though both of them, as well as both of my parents, are gone now. My parents were killed in a raid the three years after I graduated Hogwarts. My elder brother, Robert, was killed my Voldemort just before Harry's parents were, and my younger brother, Malcolm, was an Auror until he was killed in a training accident the year before you came to Hogwarts."

"Oh, Minerva, I'm so sorry," Hermione exclaimed, reaching out and touching her mentor's hand. "Have you got any family left at all?"

"I'm afraid not," she replied ruefully. "Robert had a wife and a son, but they were killed the same day he was, and Malcolm... his partner, Kingsley, is still living, but they never started a family. It's just me now."

"You never married or had children either?" the second year girl asked timidly, deciding to not press the matter of Minerva's brother being gay, for now. "Harry thinks you and the Headmaster…"

"Merlin no!" Minerva laughed. "Albus and I are merely friends – a friendship built on years of being colleagues, though I doubt we would have ever gotten close if we had no shared a love for Transfiguration. I was married and widowed once, and then married and divorced later on. It's been years since I've been in that sort of relationship."

Hermione bit her lip, unsure if what she was thinking of saying would be considered _over the line_ or not. Regardless of her hesitation, she decided to go with it. "You never know who will come into your life, Minerva. Perhaps you just haven't yet met the one you're meant to be with forever."

"Perhaps," the older woman nodded, and the look in Minerva's eyes told Hermione that after so much loss in her family, the last McGonagall standing wanted to believe that was so.

* * *

_September 19, 1992_

Minerva smiled mischievously as she opened the door to her quarters at two 'o' clock. "Hi there," she said to the second year Gryffindor.

Hermione looked at her oddly, obviously taking in the fact that the older woman was dressed as if she was ready to go somewhere, which was the opposite of her normal appearance when the now thirteen year old came over for tea. "Has something come up? Do we need to cancel today?" she asked, looking disappointed at the prospect.

"No," Minerva replied coyly. "You and I are taking a trip into Hogsmeade today to celebrate your birthday."

Hermione's eyes got wide. "But, second year students aren't allowed…"

"I Owled your parents and got permission, and I cleared it with Albus," Minerva explained. "Granted, I got this permission on the pretense that you needed a new set of robes, as your normal school robes were accidentally ruined in a Transfiguration accident."

Hermione stared dumbly. "There's nothing wrong with my school robes…"

Minerva flicked her wand, and then upon seeing the result of her handiwork, stifled a giggle. She then conjured a full length mirror and guided Hermione in front of it. "Are you sure about that, my dear?"

The older witch watched as Hermione turned to look at herself, and then gasped. Her skirt was now bright pink, and leather. Her stockings were rainbow striped. Her shoes had neon green laces. And her shirt…Minerva internally rebuked herself for the shirt. The shirt was now black, rather than white, and looked to be about two sizes too small. "Bloody hell, Minerva!" Hermione squealed.

The Transfiguration Professor flicked her wand again and Hermione's robes returned to normal. "Come on, Hermione. Let's get out of here," she urged, nudging the girl back toward the door.

"Alright, alright," Hermione said, now giggling. "You have control issues, you know."

"I do not!" Minerva objected. "If anyone has control issues it's you. Most thirteen year olds would have jumped out the door when I said I'd gotten special permission for them to leave the castle for an afternoon. Not you, though. You have to sort it all out in your head first!"

Hermione huffed as Minerva smiled at her. The banter like this was new. Last term things had still been very professional, even if they did meet for tea every week. After Minerva had told her student to call her by her given name, the mood between them had taken a surprisingly dramatic shift. It had become rather playful. In fact, Minerva might go as far as calling it flirtatious…

FLIRTAIOUS? Minerva exclaimed to herself, guiltily thinking about Hermione's transfigured shirt that had clearly showed the beginnings of puberty on the second year. For the love of Merlin, she had to be going insane…

Determined not to let her rising self-loathing ruin the day for Hermione, Minerva forced a smile and tilted her head toward the exit of her quarters. "Let's go, Hermione," she said gently. "I promised your mum we'd get you some birthday cake…apparently she was concerned that cake did not exist in the wizarding world."

Hermione was nearly doubling over with laughter as the two made their way down the hall toward the castle gates, and then down the road at a leisurely pace towards Hogsmeade.

* * *

_October 3, 1992_

Hermione knew she wouldn't be able to plan a trip out of the castle for Minerva's birthday, as the older witch had done for hers, but she had managed to come up with something special for her friend. One thing that very few people knew about the formidable Transfiguration Professor was that she was absolute shite at Potions. When she had been a student, she's barely managed an _acceptable _on her Potions OWL. Hermione on the other hand was a second year and could brew NEWT level potions when she set her mind to it.

The other thing few people knew about Minerva was that she had quite the extensive beauty regime, which was mostly potions for her long, ebony hair. The shampoo she liked to use was very hard to brew and took several hours per batch. About once a month, Minerva endured the mocking of Severus Snape when she asked him to brew more. That said, Hermione had been nowhere to be found for three Sundays in a row, when she had snuck off to an abandoned classroom to make the shampoo. She had managed to brew nine batches, which would last Minerva the rest of the school year and a bit into the summer break.

She had Owl ordered the ingredients, as well as the collection of pump bottles to put the concoction into. The only thing she'd had to skive was the formula that Professor Snape used, which she had snagged the same day she had stolen the ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion she was brewing with the boys. Hermione felt rather guilty about her willingness to break into her savings to get what she needed for Minerva's gift, but had resorted to stealing for the Polyjuice. Granted, she justified, nothing in the recipe for the shampoo was restricted, but many of those needed for Polyjuice were only available to over seventeens.

Hermione's hands were full when she arrived at Minerva's quarters, so she used her foot to knock on the door. Minerva opened the door, and a moment later the large wrapped box started floating out of her arms.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Hermione, but doesn't Professor Flitwick cover both the levitation and the featherlight charms during first year?"

Hermione groaned. "Yes, but I wasn't willing to risk levitating, in case a distraction caused me to loose control of the charm, and the featherlight charm would have ruined what is in the box."

Minerva looked puzzled.

"Just open your birthday present and I'll explain what you seem to not remember as part of first year knowledge," Hermione teased.

The older witch looked affronted. "Watch yourself, Miss Granger. I could give you detention you know."

Hermione crossed her arms awkwardly across her chest, thinking about the change in Minerva's behavior this term. The older woman was almost...flirting with her. Not that she really minded...eh-hem. "Class is not in session, Miss McGonagall," Hermione boldly bantered. "Nor am I here as your student."

Minerva chuckled, and then set to opening her gift. She picked up a clear bottle with a very familiar liquid settled inside. "Is this my..."

"Shampoo," Hermione confirmed. "Enough to last the school year and then some. And for information's sake, the featherlight charm cannot be used on most potions as it will cause them to explode. I don't know about your Potions and Charms Professors but Snape and Flitwick both made certain the class understood that."

"It's amazing I haven't killed myself yet," Minerva mused. "I did not recall that fact. As to the gift...this is wonderful. I can't imagine how you did it..."

"I got the formula from Snape and brewed it," Hermione teased. "Unlike some people I am not absolute shite at Potions. Happy Birthday, Min," Hermione said, pulling the older woman into a tight embrace.

"Thank you, dearest," Minerva whispered.

* * *

_ December 26, 1992_

Minerva couldn't help it. Seeing Hermione Granger with fur, pointed ears, and a tail was absolutely hysterical. So, she laughed. "Miss Granger what have you gotten yourself into this time?" she asked, taking a seat beside her young friend's bed in the Hospital Wing."

Hermione huffed. Obviously she didn't think this was funny at all. "It seems that even perfectly brewed Polyjuice can have horrid results when you add cat hair."

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you were brewing Polyjuice, will you?" Minerva inquired.

"Not a chance, _Professor,_" the second year replied cheekily.

"Which means it has something to do with the boys," the older witch concluded. "Just promise me you'll be careful, my dear. With the current state of things…I couldn't bear it if something happened to you."

Hermione smiled. "We'll be careful," she promised. "Now, on to more pleasant matters, it was good of you to visit me."

Minerva shrugged, and with a wave of her hand a tea setting appeared on the table beside them, along with a small package. "I needed to give you your Christmas gift, and besides, just because you landed yourself in the Hospital Wing does not mean we have to miss our weekly tea."

"Thank you," Hermione grinned. "I have a gift for you as well."

"You didn't have to do that," Minerva said weakly, a touch of guilt flooding her. Every single time something happened that reminded the Deputy Headmistress that their relationship was far more than student and teacher, she felt this way.

"Nor did you," the Gryffindor girl said boldly. "Yet you did. I won't tell if you don't," she teased.

"Oh, fine," Minerva chuckled, tossing the package towards her young friend. "On with it then."

Hermione tenderly tore away the deep red paper, until she uncovered a small, beautifully beaded bag. "It's lovely," she whispered. "Thank you."

"It's a bottomless bag," Minerva explained. "You could fit half the school library in there and it there would still be room. It's charmed remain lightweight, as well."

Hermione smiled, and nodded. "I'll certainly make use of that. Now, here's yours," she said, handing off a package in green paper.

Minerva took it and began unwrapping her gift, curious as to what the brown-eyed girl had thought to give her this time. Inside was a gold chain and pendant. The pendant was a runic letter 'M'. "Gorgeous," the sole McGonagall heir said.

"I don't know if you were aware or not, but it's an old, Scottish wizarding tradition that a person give a runic pendant to the person they wish to marry, rather than an engagement ring," Hermione said quietly. "We've only spoken briefly about your previous marriages and that one never knows when love will find them, but I wanted you to consider this gift a sign of hope for that future to find you."

Minerva stared at the girl, dumbfounded at such a deeply personal gift. In that moment, Minerva felt the urge to hand the necklace back to Hermione, and she wasn't sure if it was because she really had no hope of finding love, or if the one she'd been waiting for all her life was the thirteen year old in front of her. She sighed. Time would tell in any event, she supposed.

* * *

_January 9, 1993_

Hermione barged into Minerva's quarters with more gusto than usual. "Gah!" she exclaimed as soon as the door closed behind her.

"What, exactly, is _gah?_" the older witch inquired.

"My bloody parents want to go to France for the summer hols," Hermione replied, taking her seat. As foul a mood as she was in at the moment, it was comforting to be here with her Head of House and friend. "They don't seem very concerned about how I feel about the matter."

"I take it you do not wish to spend the holiday in France," Minerva concluded. "Though for one with such an active mind, it surprises me that you would not wish to explore a new place."

"I'm sure France is lovely," Hermione sighed. "But if we go to France, I will miss getting to see my cousin Carrie. She's my mum's sister's daughter. She's much older than I am, but she's always been kind to me. We have a lot in common – in fact she went to a boarding school as well, though I can't recall if she ever said what the name of the place was. She was already graduated when I came to Hogwarts."

"What's your cousin's surname?" Minerva inquired after a pause.

"Green, why?" Hermione replied, perplexed by Minerva's suspicious tone.

Minerva's eyebrows rose, and then she got up and went to her desk. She opened a drawer and pulled out a small box, and carried it back to her seat beside Hermione. Hermione watched silently as Minerva searched through the box. "Ah ha," she said, selecting a worn muggle photograph. "Is this your cousin?"

Hermione took the photo, and was rather surprised to see that yes, it was indeed her cousin Carrie, standing on the Great Wall of China right beside Minerva. They were both dressed in Muggle clothing. "You know her?"

Minerva nodded. "Indeed. I keep a summer house in Poole, next door to the Greens. I've known her all of her life. This photo was taken four years ago, when I took her to China as a graduation gift."

"Bloody hell!" Hermione gasped. "I had no idea. I've never been to their house – the always make the trip up to see us over the summers."

Minerva smiled. "Small world," she said.

"I'll say."

* * *

_February 13, 1993_

Minerva laughed as Hermione told her about the antics that Harry and Ron had planned for Valentine's Day. "Well what about you, Hermione?" she asked. "What are your plans for tomorrow?"

Hermione shrugged. "I haven't found anyone to pursue as of yet," she replied. "I'll probably just read a good book."

"What would your dream boy look like?" Minerva asked, curious as to what qualities would draw the attention of the thirteen year old.

"Taller than me, thin, athletic but not a Quidditch nut, intelligent, someone who makes me laugh, who I could go to about anything that was on my mind," she said. "I admit I've got a bit of a thing for Scottish accents. I'd want someone to explore the world with me, wizarding and muggle. Oh, and it would have to be a woman…as I am quite positively a lesbian."

Minerva was at a loss for words. Firstly, there was the factor of Hermione, at such a young age, declaring she was a lesbian, and second, the woman she was describing was, well…her. Everything that Hermione wanted in a lover were qualities of _her_. "Wow," Minerva muttered.

Hermione shrunk back in her chair a bit. "Um…sorry, I didn't mean to spring that on you like that…me being a lesbian…I hope that doesn't bother you."

Minerva reached across and touched Hermione's hand. "Oh course it doesn't bother me, my dear. I was just surprised, is all. I myself am bisexual. My first marriage was to a man, but my second, the one that ended in divorce, was to a woman."

"Really?" Hermione squeaked.

"Yes," Minerva admitted. "Though I must caution you – not all wizarding folk are open to such things. Guard carefully who you share that bit of information with. Kingsley, Malcolm's lover, and my ex, Amelia, are the only living souls who know of my sexual orientation. Oh, and Albus. It's pretty much impossible to hide a marriage and subsequent divorce, from one's boss."

"You hide it well," Hermione said. "And thank you for trusting me with that information. You didn't have to tell me, you know."

Minerva smiled, wondering for the millionth time how she had gotten _this_ close to a thirteen year old girl. "I see no reason to keep that from you, of all people. That necklace you gave me for Christmas pretty much entitles you to some knowledge of my love life."

"So have you met someone, then?" Hermione asked, grinning.

Minerva chuckled. "Not yet, Hermione."

* * *

_April 17, 1993_

Hermione was about to walk in to Minerva's quarters when she heard the older witch conversing with another female. The voice of the other woman seemed familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. It was probably just an older student asking a question about Transfiguration…

Hermione felt an uncomfortable knot form in her stomach at the thought of anyone encroaching on her time with Minerva. Saturdays at two was _their_ time. "Bugger," she muttered to herself. She raised her hand to knock, hoping that her arrival would chase this other person away.

A moment later, Minerva answered the door, staring with a puzzled expression. "What on earth did you knock for, Hermione?" she asked. "You have the password, do you not?"

"Of course," Hermione said, "but I heard you talking to someone. I didn't want to just barge in."

To the younger Gryffindor's surprise, Minerva pulled her in the door and quickly placed her hands over Hermione's eyes. "I have a surprise for you. No peeking."

Hermione squeaked in surprise, particularly at the rush she felt in her groin area when Minerva's body pressed against her own as the older witch guided the younger toward, presumably, the den.

"Do you remember what we talked about at the beginning of January?" Minerva asked. "Do you remember whom we talked about?"

"Um…Carrie?" Hermione guessed, confused as to what that had to do with anything.

"Minerva McGonagall, you bloody arse!" a female voice shouted. "You're a witch, 'Mione?"

Minerva's hands moved away and after a few blinks, Hermione realized she was standing in front of her cousin, Carrie. "I'm going to kill my mum," Hermione muttered as soon as the shock wore off enough to speak. "You're a witch, too?"

"I didn't tell you she was a witch in January because I wanted to surprise you both," Minerva explained.

"It worked," Hermione and Carrie said at the same time.

"Damn, Minerva," Carrie said. "That was rather Slytherin of you."

"It's certainly was," Hermione agreed. She walked up to Minerva and wrapped her arms around the older woman. "I'm glad though. Thanks."

"Oi!" Carrie said. "You see that bloody woman all the time and _she _gets the first hug? Get over here, Squirt!"

Hermione blushed. "Don't call me that, Carrie," she pleaded.

Minerva grinned impishly. "I am so going to file that nickname away."

"Not fair, Min!" Hermione protested.

"Life seldom is, dearest."

* * *

_May 29, 1993_

Minerva sat quietly beside Hermione's bedside in the Hospital Wing. After finding the girl Petrified - _Merlin, she'd nearly died at the sight_ – she had continued to visit her young friend every Saturday at two. Hermione had been given the Mandrake Draught an hour ago, and should be awake soon. She would wait here all day if that's what it took, but Minerva would be the first person Hermione saw when she woke up.

"Minerva?" a gentle, male voice said.

She turned, and saw Albus walking toward her. "What?"

"You are by Miss Granger's bedside, again," he observed.

"And?" she inquired sharply.

"You shouldn't be," Albus said candidly. "She is not Amelia."

"Thank Merlin for that!" Minerva laughed. "She's smarter, and kinder, and more thoughtful than Amelia ever was."

Albus frowned. "Minerva, it is obvious that you care deeply for the girl, but I must remind you that she is just that – a girl. She cannot become your lover…"

"Albus!" Minerva gasped. "I would thank you to not accuse me of such things. I will admit that I share a friendship with Hermione, but it is nothing more than that. There are no rules against a student and teacher becoming friends."

Internally, Minerva felt guilt piling up. She was not lying to Albus – she and Hermione were friends only – but as the older woman looked at the slumbering form of Hermione Granger, she realized that she did indeed feel more for the teenager than was appropriate. Merlin forgive her, though, as she knew that she did not have it in her to do the right thing and push the thirteen year old away.

"I am merely concerned," Albus said coldly. "I will not be able to protect you if this…_friendship_ if yours evolves any more than it has."

Minerva said nothing in reply, and after a moment, she heard him turn and walk away. It was only a few minutes later that Hermione's eyes flickered open. The girl blinked, eyes adjusting to the light.

"Min?" she croaked. "Are you really here?"

"Always, dearest," she whispered. "Always."

* * *

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	3. Chapter 3

**Year three! Here you go!**

**At the request of a reviewer, I'm going to tell you guys that Hermione will be nearly 16 years old before they have sex. I posted an underage sex warning, and I did mean that...but she's not going to loose her v-card in this chapter. It will be the end of the NEXT one! (yes I'm evil!) **

* * *

**Third Year**

_September 18, 1993_

Minerva was trying not to stare, truly she was, but the summer break this year had launched Hermione full force into puberty, and like many older students, the very soon to be fourteen year old girl had taken to prancing around in muggle clothing that hugged her swelling breasts and rather cute arse in all the right places. Bugger.

"Happy birthday, Hermione," Minerva forced herself to say as the two took their usual spots in Minerva's den.

"My birthday isn't until tomorrow, you know," the new Third Year pointed out.

"I know that, silly," Minerva laughed. "But as your actual birthday was closer to _this_ Saturday than it to next, we're celebrating today."

"What, you can't bring yourself to seek me out tomorrow?" Hermione jibed. "I don't suppose it would do to see me out of class twice in one week."

Minerva huffed. "Don't forget what I told you last week, dearest. Albus has become less supportive of our friendship."

"I think he's jealous," the younger witch proclaimed. "He's worried you like me more than him."

The Transfiguration almost spit out her tea at the hilarity of Hermione's comment. "Well, bugger him, if that's the case," she laughed. "I _do_ like you more than him."

"Really?" Hermione asked shyly.

Minerva threw a wadded up napkin at her young friend. "Sometimes. I still haven't quite forgiven you for Owling me that ball of yarn when I said I was bored over summer break."

Hermione laughed. "Right. So, what did you get me for my birthday, speaking of gifts?"

"Who said I got you anything at all?" Minerva grinned.

A playful light danced in Hermione's eyes. "As if you wouldn't, despite the fact that you _shouldn't_. Alas, I won't tell Albus if you don't."

"I'm beginning to wonder if you are endeavoring to _make_ him jealous," the older witch accused. The concept had plenty of merit, she mused. There was plenty of evidence that Hermione went out of her way sometimes to rub it in Albus' face that his Deputy preferred the company of a teenager to himself.

"Why ever would I do such a thing?" Hermione inquired, an innocent look plaster on her face.

Huh. So not denying it then, Minerva observed. "Oh fine, here's your birthday gift," she said, handing over a very small, neatly wrapped box. "Before you open it, understand that this gift is for you to use for the duration of this school year only. And there will be rules to its use, which I'll explain shortly."

Hermione looked at her curiously, and then set to carefully unwrapping the gift. A few moments passed and the teen pulled out a beautifully crafted gold pendant, with an hourglass set in the center. It hung on a gold chain. The wide eyed expression that followed told Minerva that her young friend knew exactly what it was. "A timeturner," she breathed. "However did you know I wanted…"

"When any student of mine petitions the Ministry of Magic for use of a timeturner, I am notified," Minerva explained. "Normally, they are only given to particularly gifted NEWT students, which is why your application was denied initially. Lucky for you, I happen to know someone who works in the Unspeakable division, and after a couple Owls, I was able to procure it for you."

"Brilliant!" Hermione exclaimed.

"I also took the liberty of adding the classes you mentioned you wanted to take to your schedule," Minerva elaborated. "I figure I can guarantee that you'll take some time off to relax, at least Saturday afternoons."

"I may end up bringing homework with me on Saturdays," Hermione began. "I could work on some of the easy stuff while…"

Minerva glared.

"Or not…" Hermione amended.

"Most certainly not," Minerva agreed. "This will give you a very hectic calendar, but I am confident you'll manage. You are the brightest witch that Hogwarts has seen in decades."

Hermione blushed. "I'm not all that…"

"You are, my dear," Minerva insisted. "And more."

* * *

_October 2, 1993_

Hermione took a deep breath and willed her heart to settle as she approached Minerva's quarters, as usual. _Blasted hormones_, she thought. _Of all the women in the world to fall for, why did it have to be her?_

Hermione had, after much internal debate and a massive amount of Owls to Carrie, that she had indeed fallen head over heals for her professor and friend, Minerva McGonagall. Carrie, of course, thought it was quite funny, but Hermione was less amused. She and the older witch certainly were close, and Minerva _was_ bisexual, but there still was a decidedly massive age gap to consider. It was, in fact, the wall preventing Hermione from going all Gryffindor and declaring her affections. She adored Minerva, and was not about to risk losing the friendship they had because of a stupid crush…okay, more than a crush…but not any less stupid, she decided. Hell, even her stupid boggart knew that she was falling in love with her teacher, as it had presented as Minerva saying that she couldn't stand the sight of her. Merlin, had she cried herself to sleep _that _night.

"Hey," she said casually, forcing a smile as she entered Minerva's den like usual. Hermione tossed a package to the older woman. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you," Minerva replied, beginning to unwrap the package.

"I doubt that will top what you gave me, but you do get to keep yours," the younger girl smirked.

Minerva said nothing until she had finished unwrapping. "Hermione Granger, how on earth did you get your hands on this?" she exclaimed.

Hermione smiled, glad that Minerva was pleased with her new book. _Transfiguration Essentials_ was a long out of print book written by Godric Gryffindor. Only one edition was ever printed, and it was nearly impossible to find. Hermione had lucked out and found it in a muggle bookstore of all places. Not only was finding it remarkable, but the muggle thought it was a self-published book on witchcraft, a subject she did not endorse, and had sold it to Hermione for all of five pounds. Normally the book cost well over four hundred Galleons. Best yet, Hermione knew that Minerva had been hunting that particular tome for nearly twenty years, with no luck.

"Found it in a muggle bookshop, of all places," Hermione explained.

"You're kidding!"

"Nope," the teen grinned.

The rest of the afternoon was consumed with discussion about Transfiguration and the odd way that many muggles perceived wizardry. Before Hermione knew it, it was time for her to head down to dinner, and Minerva walked her to the door.

"I'll see you in class on Monday," Minerva said, pulling Hermione into an embrace.

A surge of recklessness flooded into Hermione, and before she pulled away from the hug, she softly kissed Minerva's cheek. It was more than a peck, but less than what would be considered an obvious advance. Minerva did not seem to mind, persay, but Hermione could see the questions dancing in the older woman's eyes as the younger witch pulled away and was out the door without so much as a "Goodbye".

"I can't believe I just bloody did that," Hermione muttered to herself as she raced down the hall, desperate to distance herself from what may or may not have been a big mistake.

* * *

_December 25, 1993_

It had been nearly three months since Hermione had kissed Minerva on the cheek. Neither had mentioned it, and Hermione had not done it again. However, years of experience reviled to Minerva that the kiss had not been a platonic gesture, even if Hermione had wanted to believe it was.

Albus' warnings ran through her mind as she waited for Hermione to arrive as usual, and she thought about how she felt about the girl being romantically interested in her. On one hand, she was shocked – the age gap between them was no small number, and while she knew that Hermione was interested in woman, she herself was far from attractive anymore. There was no logical reason for Hermione to look at her _that way_. However, it seemed that logic had no hold on the fourteen year old, and what that meant for Minerva was…difficult.

Merlin be damned, she _was _attracted to Hermione. She felt like a bloody pedophile for even thinking like that, but denying her ever growing feelings seemed pretty stupid. If it had just remained her feelings, she never would have even considered expressing her interest, especially not while Hermione was still in school, but she could not deny that their relationship was growing. She already knew she didn't have it in her to _do the right thing _and push her young friend away, but the next question on her mind was if she had the strength to…oh, what did kids these days call it…right, _friend-zone_ Hermione? She knew the girl would respect if that's what she did, but…_gah_!

"Minerva?" Hermione said, walking into the room. "You look deep in thought."

The older witch managed a tight smile. "Oh, you know. Hogwarts business."

The two exchanged Christmas gifts – a new set of quills for Hermione and an obscenely large tin of Ginger Newts for Minerva – and talked about this and that. Everything seemed normal, and as always Minerva found herself settling into a level of comfort that made her forget that Hermione was her student – her fourteen year old student.

Merry Christmases and goodbyes were being exchanged by the door when something completely unexpected happened. Minerva was returning Hermione's hug, and quite suddenly she realized that her lips had caressed the younger witch's cheek, and rather than pull away quickly as she should have, Minerva did exactly what Hermione had done several months ago, and pressed a kiss on the soft skin before releasing the embrace.

_Oh shite,_ Minerva thought, seeing the look of utter glee in Hermione's eyes.

"Goodnight, Minerva," the teen whispered. "See you next week."

The door closed being Hermione and Minerva leaned against the wall, heart fluttering like it hadn't in years. "Oh shite," she muttered. "This is not good. This is _definitely _not good."

Minerva glanced at a picture on her mantle of her brother Malcolm. The two of them had always been close, it was moments like this that she missed him so much. "What the hell should I do, Mal?" she whispered. "I think I'm falling in love with my student."

* * *

_February 12, 1994_

This time last year Hermione had been wishing that she would find love. This year she was wishing that she hadn't. Valentine's was supposed to be a happy day when spent with the one you loved, but Hermione felt anything but as she made her way to Minerva's quarters. When she had kissed Minerva on the cheek, it had mostly been an attempt to force Minerva into pushing her away. To have the older witch return the gesture several weeks later had been a twist Hermione was not expecting in the least, and it had led her down a very dangerous path of thinking.

_Did Minerva feel the same?_ she wondered _Was it possible that the love she felt was not one sided?_

That question asked, Hermione began to wonder how she felt about the prospect of Minerva feeling the same. Logically she knew she ought to be a bit freaked out at the idea that her much older professor might fancy her. She was only fourteen for Merlin's sake! On the other hand, considering what she felt for said professor, the idea was riveting to consider. The idea of diving into a scandalous affair both terrified and excited Hermione. Carrie always insisted that Hermione had a bit of a _bad girl_ side to her. Was that what this was? Was the notion of snogging her professor simply a hormone driven desire to act out? Or was it really love, like she thought?

Hermione prayed to whoever was listening that Minerva was not an Occlumance – they had never discussed the topic before – as she stepped into the older witch's quarters at promptly two 'o' clock.

"I'll meet you in the ten in a moment, Hermione!" Minerva called from her bedroom.

Hermione made for the den, prepared the tea for them, and a few minutes later Minerva joined her, surprising the teen with a very _muggle_ outfit. "You're wearing denim," she blurted.

Minerva grinned. "Don't know why, but I was feeling inspired to wear muggle clothes today. You wear them every week – so why should I be stuffy and stick with a witch's robes?"

"You look good," Hermione complimented carefully. _You're arse looks bloody fantastic!_ was what she was thinking, but that hardly seemed the appropriate thing to say. Sweet Merlin it was tempting to make a pass at the older woman.

But it was wrong. Even if Hermione accepted that she had feelings for Minerva, and there was a strong possibility that Minerva felt the same, it was still very, very wrong to act on it. Until she came of age, they could not have a relationship. Minerva could lose her job, or even be sent to Azkaban like Sirius Black, for becoming involved with someone underage. It didn't matter if Hermione was her student or not, but the age thing was a big deal in wizarding law.

It had been like that for nearly two hundred years now, after the age of seventeen was legalized as adulthood, and that no one could marry prior to that. The law was created to stop pureblood families from marrying their teenage daughters off to older men. Two centuries ago it was common place that a witch would be married by twelve, pregnant within a year after, and one in ten of those young girls would die in childbirth. Granted, she and Minerva were both female, so it's not like either of them could get pregnant…but still. It was wrong.

* * *

_April 16, 1994_

Minerva used to love spring, but in the last couple of years, it had lost its appeal. Spring marked the time of year that led to summer, and consequentially, to the departure of Hermione from her life for a few months. She hated summers now. On the other hand, she hated herself for the reason she hated it.

They only had another month together; one less Saturday than they'd had this morning, as it was nearly dinner time and therefore, time to bid Hermione a good evening.

"I have to get to dinner," Hermione said, echoing what Minerva had just thought about.

"I know," Minerva replied softly. "I'll walk you to the door."

The steps between the den and the door to Minerva's quarters were walked in silence. They'd spent most of the afternoon together, but the mood was obviously solemn. Minerva could tell that she wasn't the only one with other things than their visit on her mind.

Hermione snaked her arms around Minerva's waist and pulled her into a hug. "I wish I could stay here for the summer," she whispered into Minerva's neck.

The sensation of Hermione's hot breath against her pulse point caused Minerva to involuntarily pull Hermione closer. The younger witch looked up, locking brown eyes with emerald ones. Minerva dipped her head down, intent on kissing Hermione on the cheek like she had months earlier. She simply wanted to reassure Hermione…

At that very moment, Hermione's chin tilted upward. Half a second later, their lips met. Minerva let out a soft groan as Hermione stood on her tip-toes to better control the kiss with the taller woman. It was gentle, loving, and it went on for a total of ten seconds before Minerva suddenly realized what was happening.

"Shite," she gasped, breaking away sharply, back hitting the stone wall with a thud.

Hermione, it seemed, had also snapped back to reality. "Minerva…I…god…I'm sorry."

"It was not your fault, Hermione," the older woman whispered.

"Please," the fourteen year old whimpered. "Let me use the timeturner to just undo the last minute. I won't let it happen again."

Minerva strode back over to where Hermione was still standing, and took her hand. "No, sweetheart. I can't let you do that."

"But we can't…I mean I want to, Minerva…but…" Hermione sputtered, obviously well aware of the gravity of the situation.

"Undoing the kiss we just shared will not undo how our relationship has begun to evolve," Minerva replied. "This was bound to happen. I think we both saw the signs…"

"I wasn't sure if you felt the same…" the younger witch admitted.

Minerva sighed. "Merlin knows I wish I didn't, but for god's sake Hermione, who wouldn't be attracted to you?"

Hermione blushed, but said nothing in reply. "What are we going to do?" she eventually asked.

"Keep this to ourselves for the moment," Minerva said. "I need to think. Just…head down to dinner and we'll discuss this later. You can't be late. Albus…Albus has suspected something like this would happen since end of last term. He absolutely cannot know…"

"I understand," Hermione said quickly. "I'm not about to tell Harry, Ron, or even Carrie, either."

"I trust you," Minerva said, tenderly stroking Hermione's cheek. _Yes, _she thought. _I love her._

* * *

_June 11, 1994_

"I know we've both been putting this conversation off," Minerva said as soon as Hermione took her seat, "but we need to talk about what happened a month ago before you leave for the summer holiday."

Hermione took a deep breath and nodded. "I know," she whispered. "So…"

"I think the best way to start is with a question," Minerva said carefully. "How do you feel about me? Honestly?"

"I really, really like you," Hermione answered after a moment's hesitation. She thought about telling the older witch that she loved her, but didn't want to claim a feeling that she wasn't sure she was really mature enough to truly understand. "I'm certainly attracted to you. And you're my best friend."

"Okay," Minerva sighed.

"And you?" Hermione prompted, hoping to steer Minerva away from trying to make this conversation only about one of their feelings.

"I care deeply for you," Minerva admitted, "far, far more than I should. And only an idiot would not find you attractive, dearest."

"So what now?" Hermione asked. "I mean…we kissed…and as you wouldn't let me use the timeturner to undo that, we can't simply go back to the way things were."

"Obviously not," Minerva huffed.

"So?"

"I suppose we continue on much like we have been," Minerva said. "But we must set up some boundaries. If we still feel as we do when you are of age, then we'll readdress, but for now…"

"I assumed as much, about the boundaries," Hermione interjected. "I don't want you to lose your job, or worse yet, get sent to Azkaban!"

"Indeed," Minerva smirked slightly. "That would be unfortunate."

"I'd absolutely die," Hermione said seriously.

"You would not," Minerva chuckled. "Don't be such a wuss."

"I am _not_ a wuss," the younger witch objected. "I am merely concerned for your well-being."

"And I am equally concerned about _this_ getting out and ruining your future," Minerva said pointedly. "I do hope you've considered how a….scandal like this could affect you in the long term."

"Don't be daft, of course I have."

"Well then, that settles it," Minerva replied. "No more kissing. Focus on your schoolwork, and we'll continue to meet on Saturdays like always. Perhaps we should even refrain from hugs…"

"No way," Hermione argued. "I'm not giving that up, too."

"Well hugs seem to lead to kisses between us, my dear."

"We'll use the five second rule," the teen declared. "We can hug, but no longer than five seconds."

"And who will be responsible for counting these five seconds?" Minerva inquired with a quirk of her lip. "I, for one, find myself a bit too distracted to count when you've got your arms wrapped around me."

"Fine," Hermione laughed. "I'll be in charge of counting."

"I'll hold you to that, _Miss Granger_," Minerva stated firmly.

"Yes, _Professor_."

Hermione sighed in relief. This conversation was going better than she'd expected. She'd hoped that Minerva wouldn't drive her away, but from the sounds of it, the older witch was agreeing to be her _girlfriend_, for want of better word. They would simply be taking things very, very slow. And that was okay. Everything was going to be alright.

* * *

**Reviews make me type faster! :P Hope you enjoyed! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, I got a bit carried away on this chapter, so enjoy a good, long installment. You guys are fantastic, thank you so much for your support! **

* * *

**Fourth Year**

_September 17, 1994_

"I can't believe you're fifteen," Minerva sighed. "Well, nearly."

Hermione smiled at Minerva, thinking to herself that she wished she was turning seventeen. The kiss the two had shared a month before end of term had made her already raging hormones worse. The dampness in her knickers was uncomfortable, but it was a small price to pay to spend time with the older witch. "Funny thing, time," she commented. "It does keep moving forward."

Minerva laughed. "Yes, it does. Only a few more years…"

"Till I can snog you senseless without getting in trouble?" Hermione inquired sweetly. If she was going to have to wait that long, she sure as hell was going to make the wait at least a bit irritating for Minerva.

"Hermione, don't taunt me like that," Minerva said firmly. "Don't over estimate my self-control."

"You're no fun," Hermione replied, wrapping herself tightly in the beautiful throw that the older witch had given her for her birthday.

"Come on," Minerva said, suddenly standing. "Let's go for a walk."

Hermione looked at the older witch, puzzled. "Where? Why?"

"Anywhere," the Deputy Headmistress said. "And so I am less inclined to jump you."

Hermione sighed. "Very well."

The two grabbed cloaks and began a walk through the castle. Hermione stiffened when she saw the Headmaster approaching them. "Good afternoon Minerva, Miss Granger," he said quietly. "I see you have continued your Saturday visits this term."

"Albus," Minerva said, stepping in front of Hermione protectively. "Did you need something?"

"Not presently," he replied after a pause. "Though I would like to see you in my office after the evening meal. It seems we have something to discuss again."

Hermione knew he was talking about their relationship, and she bit her lip to stop herself from telling him to bugger off and mind his own business.

"Of course," Minerva replied quietly. "Now if you would excuse us, we on our way to see Misters Potter and Weasley."

Albus nodded, and walked onward. The two stood there silently for a moment, both trying to shake off the uneasy mood that the old man's presence had induced.

"I guess we're going to see Harry and Ron, then?" Hermione asked.

Minerva grinned at her. "We've been meeting every Saturday for three years now, Hermione. With how our relationship is evolving, don't you think it would be a good idea for me to get to know your two best friends outside of class?"

Hermione sighed. "I don't expect them to understand."

"Well we're not going to tell them anything," the older woman explained. "But I think that if they see me more relaxed, when the time comes which we can be open about how we feel for each other, they will be less shocked. Even if no one finds out prior to your turning seventeen, people are still going to be critical of our relationship. You will need their support."

"I love that you don't say _if_," Hermione smiled.

"Regardless of if our relationship turns onto a romance," Minerva pointed out, "I want to be able to be open about our friendship. Even as only friends, we make a questionable pair."

"I suppose you're right," Hermione admitted, thinking about how the boys might react if she told them she had snogged their Transfiguration Professor. Harry would probably stand there with his mouth gaping like a fish, and Ron was likely to lose his temper. She hoped they would come around to the idea in time, but initial reactions were probably not going to be good. Minerva was right in thinking that she ought to get to know the boys a bit, now.

* * *

_October 1, 1994_

Fifty nine years old this week, Minerva mused to herself. Had anyone asked her if she expected to be falling in love with a student forty-four years her junior at this age, she would have laughed in their faces. Alas, every day she spent with Hermione Granger made her feel more and more sure of how she felt about the young Gryffindor. Hermione wasn't just any student, after all. She was smarter than most adults Minerva knew, and had a maturity about her that was partly due to the fact that her muggle parents had pretty much told her to manage her own life, if she wished to be a part of the wizarding world. They still spent summers with their only daughter, but Hermione did all of her own school shopping, and never went to them for parental advice.

Minerva was glad that she'd played a part in the closeness that Hermione and her cousin Carrie had now a days. Finding out the cousins were both witches had been a blessing. It wasn't that uncommon for muggleborn children to be found in the same families. The Creevy brothers were a fine example of that. It was only due to Hermione's parents being so tight lipped and closed minded about the wizarding world that had prevented Hermione and Carrie from realizing they were both witches years ago. Minerva actually wondered if Carrie had suspected, being older and knowing what to look for as her young cousin was growing up in the muggle world. She'd have to Owl her former student about that.

At ten past two, Hermione rushed into her quarters. "Sorry I'm late, Minerva. Harry and Ron were drilling me about where I was going every Saturday. It's a bit pathetic, but it seems it's taken them three year to realize that I'm nowhere to be found every single Saturday afternoon."

Minerva laughed. "You could have told them you were coming to see me."

"And have them spend all term making fun of me for going to see a teacher every weekend?" Hermione asked incredulously. "I think not. I think I'll wait till they grow up a bit to drop that on their thick heads. Ugh! Boys!"

"It might be prudent for you actually find a female friend," Minerva suggested, "as waiting till the boys actually grow up to have someone you can talk to about your feelings would be a great exercise in patience."

Hermione huffed. "I've got you, and I've got Carrie. I don't need any other females in my life. The very thought of spilling my soul to the likes of Lavender Brown…"

"Yea, don't do that, little cous," a new voice recommended.

"Carrie!" Minerva exclaimed, pleasantly surprised at her former student's presence. "What brings you here?"

"I asked her to come," Hermione said. "Happy birthday, Minerva."

"Yea, how ancient are you now?" Carrie asked, taking a seat on the unoccupied sofa. "You letch."

Minerva blushed, though she could tell that Carrie was teasing her. Obviously Hermione had decided to share at least some of what was going on between the two of them with her cousin. "Err…" she said, not wanting to say anything that would tell Carrie more than she already knew.

"Snogging my fourteen year old cousin," Carrie rolled her eyes. "I never thought I'd live to see the say that you got yourself in _this_ kind of trouble."

"Fifteen," Hermione corrected.

"You were fourteen when it happened, little cous," Carrie reminded her. "Unless there has been another snogging session since then that I have not heard about."

"No," Minerva said firmly. "There absolutely has not."

"Don't get defensive, McGonagall," Carrie growled, throwing a pillow at the older witch. "You're lucky I think you and Hermione make the perfect couple, or I'd be running off and telling my aunt, who I can tell you would _not_ be happy about it."

"Carrie," Hermione whispered. "Cut it out. She feels bad enough about what's happened between us as it is."

"That's the truth," Minerva mumbled.

"Oh fine. Grab your coats, ladies," Carrie ordered, jumping back up. "We're going to London for the afternoon."

"I can't," Hermione pointed out. "Not without my mum's approval, not to mention the Headmaster."

Carrie raised her eyebrow. "As an Auror, I can tell you that if an underage witch or wizard has a family member who is a witch or wizard, their authority supersedes muggle parents or guardians. With as crappy as your parents have been to you, 'Mione, I'm tempted to file for former custody."

"You could do that?" the fifteen year old asked, looking hopeful.

"We'll discuss it later, cous," Carrie said, waving her hand dismissively. "The point is, I can authorize you leaving Hogwarts, and if ol' Dumbledore doesn't like it, well, he can shove my broom up his arse."

Hermione giggled, but Minerva was not amused. "I'm not going to debate your familial rights, Carrie, but Albus is not someone to cross lightly."

"And yet, you snogged my cousin under his nose," Carrie pointed out.

"Yes, well," Minerva blushed. "Contrary to the belief of the general student population, I do have feelings, and Merlin forgive me, they happen to be focused on Hermione."

Minerva almost toppled over when Hermione launched herself at the older witch for a bone breaking hug. "Five second rule!" she squeaked.

* * *

_November 5, 1994_

Hermione sat down on the sofa, rather than in her usual chair in Minerva's quarters, with a resigned sigh. She blinked several times, trying to relieve the pressure in her eyes from the swelling brought on by the good long cry she'd had this morning.

"What wrong, dearest?" Minerva said, sitting next to her. "Harry?"

The fourth year Gryffindor nodded mutely. "I can't believe Albus is letting him compete. I know it sounds silly, but I find myself wondering if he's letting Harry be put in such danger because he hates me."

"He does not hate you," Minerva objected.

"Oh, don't be an idiot, Minerva," Hermione snapped, turning away. "He can't bloody stand how close we've gotten, and it has nothing to do with the fact that it's not _appropriate_. He is insanely jealous of you for finding someone to care about, while he is growing older by the minute and all alone."

"Hermione, give it a rest," the older witch said sharply. "I'm not denying he's jealous, but I don't insult Harry and Ron when they act like buffoons, and I'll thank you not to insult _my_ friend."

Hermione huffed. "I'm sorry, but I haven't seen Harry or Ron giving you death glares at the breakfast table."

"But they don't know there's anything between us, so that's hardly fair," Minerva argued. "Please, Hermione, just…drop it."

Hermione took a deep breath. She knew she was acting childishly. After Carrie had visited a few weeks ago, she'd been on a bit of a high with how supportive her cousin was being about everything. The fact that Albus was looking at her like she was an ant to be crushed had become increasingly irritating in contrast. "I'm sorry. I'm just…frustrated with everything. I mean, there's us, and Albus, and the stupid Goblet of Fire, and Ron acting like a walking hormone around those French girls, and Harry having to compete, and then Ron being a jerk toward Harry because of it, not to mention that stupid bloke Krum keeps making passes at me…"

"The Durmstrung champion?" Minerva asked tightly. "Is making advances on you?"

Hermione giggled. "Now who's jealous?"

"I am not," the older witch denied. "Just…he's a few years older than you…"

At that comment, Hermione laughed outright. "Look who's talking, _Professor McGonagall!_" She knew she shouldn't, but the desire to assure Minerva that she had no interest in Victor-bloody-Krum took over, and a moment later she was straddling Minerva's lap, and planted a searing kiss on the elder witch's lips.

Minerva leaned back with a groan, returning the kiss for a few seconds. "Oh, Damnit," she muttered, breaking the kiss and lifting Hermione unceremoniously off of her lap. "Point made, Hermione, but _that_ was not within the designated boundaries."

Hermione grinned, deciding that it was well worth it, even if Minerva did lecture her. Having the power to make the great Minerva McGonagall forget all reason was a thrill that Hermione was looking forward to living over and over…eventually. She _could_ wait.

* * *

_December 24, 1994_

Minerva stared in awe as Hermione came out of her bedroom wearing the pink dress that she'd gotten the young Gryffindor for Christmas. The Yule Ball was tomorrow, and she knew for a fact that Hermione was less than thrilled with the dress her mother had Owled her for the occasion. But this one was perfect, if Minerva didn't say so herself. In fact, for the first time the older witch realized she was looking at a young woman, not a girl, and a wave of peace rushed over her. Hermione was still young, she reminded herself, but she was no longer a girl.

"You look beautiful," she whispered.

"Thanks," Hermione blushed. "I wish we could go to the ball together…"

"You'll look amazing on Victor's arm," Minerva interrupted. "The lucky bloke."

Hermione going to the ball with Victor Krum had actually been Minerva's idea. He obviously fancied Hermione, but he would be gone at the end of term. This meant that Hermione could go to the ball arm and arm with a good looking young man, it would dissuade any rumors about their own relationship if they happened to come up, and next term, Minerva would not have to deal with an adolescent boy continuing to pursue _her_ Hermione.

"Still, I wanted to dance with you," Hermione muttered.

Minerva smiled, flicked her wand at the record player in the corner, and music appropriate for a slow waltz began to play. "We'll dance now," she said, offering her hand.

Hermione grinned, and slowly stepped into place; into Minerva's arms.

* * *

_February 25, 1995_

Hermione was hyper ventilating on the floor of Minerva's den. She sat by the fire, wrapped in a blanket, trying to warm up. Last night, she'd been called to the Headmaster's office along with Ron, and both had been put under a stasis spell and then dunked in the Black Lake, in bloody February, and left there till the next morning when Harry and Victor rescued them for their Triwizard Tournament task.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Minerva whispered, arms wrapped tightly around the younger witch. "I can't believe Albus did that without at least telling me."

It was obvious to Hermione, from the tightness in the other woman's voice, than she was angry at Albus. Very angry. "It would have been me even in Harry wasn't in the Tournament," Hermione said, teeth chattering. "I was Victor's goal. He cares about me."

"He bloody well better stop," Minerva muttered, caressing Hermione's cheek.

Hermione's eyes widened at the fire she saw burning in Minerva's eyes. She knew the older witch was attracted to her, but each of the two kisses they'd shared thus far had ended with Minerva pulling away in immediate remorse. With the look in the older witch's eyes now, Hermione wondered if she would be so inclined to pull away this time. On the other hand, she didn't think she could handle it right now if Minerva did pull away, so she decided to just ask. A 'no' would be better at this moment than the look of shame in the older woman's eyes.

"Kiss me?" she whispered.

Minerva stared at her for a moment before slowly leaning forward and capturing Hermione's lips. The younger witch responded gently, and after a minute, the kiss began to build, and for the first time, tongues met and began to duel for dominance. The blanket fell from Hermione's shoulders as Minerva pulled Hermione closer, and a moment later Hermione found herself laying on top of the older witch, on the floor in front of the fireplace.

Hermione moaned as Minerva's hands caressed her sides, to which Minerva responded by rolling to the side so Hermione was now laying on the floor with Minerva leaning over her. They continued to kiss for a few minutes before Minerva pulled away slowly. She was breathing deeply and Hermione knew she was stopping before they went too far.

"I love you," the younger witch whispered without thinking.

"And I love you, Hermione," Minerva replied, pressing on final kiss to her cheek before pulling away completely.

The two sat in silence for the better part of an hour before they got off the floor. Minerva fetched tea, and hours later she ordered a House Elf to bring them dinner. It wasn't until a few minutes before curfew that Minerva told her she needed to head back to Gryffindor Tower.

"I don't regret what happened this afternoon," Minerva said quietly as she walked Hermione to the door.

"I'm glad," Hermione replied. "As I don't either. Goodnight, Minerva."

"Goodnight, love."

* * *

_March 4, 1995_

Minerva smiled as she watched Hermione walking down the hall. Today had been an ordinary visit. After what happened a few weeks ago after the First Task in the Black Lake, the Transfiguration Professor had mentally amended the set of guidelines she'd set for her relationship with Hermione. She no longer pulled away in shame when Hermione kissed her, and it seemed that the younger witch was content to keep the kissing at a minimal level. Like hugs goodbye had been traditional two years ago, now a kiss goodbye was the norm.

"You're not just friends anymore, are you?" Albus' voice asked, startling her.

She turned to see the Headmaster standing behind her – he must have flooed to her quarters. "Are you asking as my friend, or as my boss, Albus?"

The old wizard sighed. "As I said two years ago, I am simply concerned…as a friend, Minerva. I did not want to see you get hurt, nor did I wish for a young girl to lose her innocence in a way she might regret. That said, when she came out of the Black Lake a couple weeks ago, I saw the look on your face… and I saw that yours were the first pair of eyes she sought out. If you truly care for her… and she for you… then I wish you the best."

Minerva decided against replying, though she was relieved to hear what he was saying. At this point, she knew that she could not confirm anything about her and Hermione's relationship to her friend. Suspicions he could keep to himself. A confession of an illicit affair with an underage student would be something, as Headmaster, he'd be obligated to report to the Ministry.

"Just, please be careful, Minerva," he added. "For both of your sakes."

* * *

_May 6, 1995_

Hermione squealed as she felt two strong arms grab her from behind and haul her into an empty classroom.

"Shut up, 'Mione," Ron's voice pleaded. "It's just us!"

Free of her red-haired friend's death grip, Hermione turned to face he and Harry. "What the bloody hell do you two think you're doing?" she demanded.

"We want to know where you run off to every Saturday," Harry explained.

"At two 'o' clock," Ron clarified. "We tried to follow you a couple times, but you always vanish just past the staircase on the sixth floor."

Hermione could not believe the nerve of these two. "If I was going somewhere secretly, why on earth would I tell you?"

"Because we're friends?" Harry suggested.

"There are some things a girl has to keep to herself," the female of the trio huffed.

"Have you got a boyfriend?" Ron asked. "I mean, you're like a sister to me and Harry – we just want to know you're safe."

Hermione crossed her arms, saying nothing, and a grant stare down ensued. The minutes passed, and the fifteen year old girl began to wonder how long Minerva would wait before beginning to search for her. After all, the last time she'd been late to their weekly tea, she'd been Petrified, and the time she'd been late before that had been because she and the boys had gone after the Sorcerer's stone. Her track record for why she might be late was actually a bit terrifying.

Right on cue, the door to the classroom blasted open, and a very angry Minerva McGonagall stormed into the room.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" she asked, ignoring the boys for a moment.

"Fine," Hermione replied. "I was on my way when Harry and Ron decided that now was a good time to drill me on where I go every Saturday."

Minerva glared at the boys, and Hermione almost felt bad as she watched them go from terrified to confused, and then back to terrified. "For your information, Misters Potter and Weasley, Hermione spends Saturday afternoons with me, as she has done since before you two decided to be her friends."

"Um…why?" Ron stuttered. "She gets great marks in every class. 'Mione doesn't need weekly tutoring or anything."

"I visit Minerva because I want to," Hermione explained. "We've gotten close over the last few years."

Minerva elbowed her, and Hermione realized she'd slipped up and used the older witch's given name in front of the boys.

Of course, they noticed. _Minerva?_ She saw Harry mouth to Ron.

_Fantastic_, she thought. "Look, I'll talk to you guys about this after supper. I'm sure our tea is getting cold by now," Hermione said, desperate to escape this awkward scene. She'd think of something to tell them later – perhaps she could blame the connection she and Minerva shared through Carrie. They'd probably buy that as a good excuse to become social with one's teacher, and not pry further.

"I'm sure you're right, my dear," Minerva said, still casting icy glares at Harry and Ron.

* * *

_June 24, 1995_

Minerva was a bit surprised when Hermione barged into her quarters only hours after Harry Potter returned from witnessing the rebirth of Voldemort, grasping the body of Cedric Diggory. Everything would change now, she knew. With Voldemort on the rise again, muggleborns like Hermione would be at very high risk, and that thought terrified her.

"Sweetheart, you should be with Harry," she whispered as Hermione threw her cloak on the floor and began walking toward Minerva. "He needs you right now."

"Harry has Ron," Hermione said, wrapping her arms around the older witch and looking her directly in the eye. "I need you."

Minerva leaned forward and pressed her lips to Hermione's, and in an unusual display of aggression, Hermione pressed her body so hard against Minerva that she was pushed backwards, landing with a gasp on the sofa. The younger witch climbed on Minerva's lap and continued kissing her, breathing becoming rapid.

"Hermione, my love, calm down," Minerva pleaded. She knew that the high emotions right now were going to lead them to a compromising position. "You're not ready…"

"I am," Hermione said firmly, stopping and looking Minerva in the eye. The fire in the brown eyes startled the older witch, and after a moment of consideration, her desire to comfort Hermione won out over the moral implications, which she knew had been long ago compromised. Much like she had known the first time they'd kissed that somehow, what was happening between them was unstoppable, she knew now that they'd come to point now where they were ready to move forward. Moral implications be damned.

"Let's go to my bedroom," Minerva whispered. "I don't fancy making love to you for the first time on a sofa."

Hermione nodded, and got up, offering her hand to Minerva. There was no giddiness in the younger witch's eyes, Minerva noticed. Hermione understood that what was about to happen was a solemn thing – an expression of real love, and not of hormone driven need. Nothing was said as they walked to the bedroom, and as soon as the door closed behind them, Minerva resumed kissing her young soon-to-be lover.

By the time they actually made it to the bed, Hermione had managed to undo most of the clasps which held Minerva's teaching robes together, and with another tug, the thick, emerald layer fell to the floor. Minerva deftly began to snake her hands under Hermione's shirt; an effort that was rewarded by a moan as skin touched skin for the first time. By the count of ten, Hermione's shirt was removed, and by the count of twenty, Minerva was clad only in her bra and knickers. Hermione's blue jeans were removed as soon as she lay down across the king sized canopy bed, and then she climbed on top of the young woman.

"You are so beautiful," she muttered, inhaling the scent of Hermione's skin as she lightly bit the pulse point on her neck.

"Oh god," Hermione moaned. "More," she whimpered, running her hands around Minerva's back, and unclasping the elder's bra.

Minerva please pleased to note that Hermione's own bra snapped in the front, and she quickly undid that. Both women shrugged their shoulders to remove their respective bras entirely, and then bodies were pressed together again.

"Ridiculous," Hermione whispered.

"What is?" Minerva breathed.

"That you've been hiding such a great – oh god – such a great body under those teaching robes," Hermione explained as Minerva began sucking her nipples. "Holy…shit…"

"You like that?" Minerva inquired with a grin, pausing for a moment.

Hermione replied by twisting her body around and pinning Minerva down on the mattress. A second later, Minerva felt Hermione begin sucking her own nipples. "Ohhh," she muttered, back arching as her body remembered what this was building to. God, her knickers were soaked.

Before attempting to remove her underwear, and Hermione's for that matter, she decided to give the fifteen year old one last chance to back out of this. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" she asked, fingers poised to remove her companion's knickers.

"Yessss," Hermione groaned, eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Minerva nodded. "Lay down on your back, my love," she instructed.

Hermione did as she was told, and a second later Minerva tugged away the blue, lace underwear and tossed them on the floor. She looked at Hermione one final time before lowering herself into position – the look of pure love in the young woman's eyes was all the confirmation she needed.

Minerva's tongue swept across Hermione's opening, which resulted in a guttural moan from the younger witch. Hermione's back began to arch, and Minerva placed her hand on her lover's abdomen to old her in place while she continued to work Hermione's body. And sweet Merlin, this tasted good.

"Feels…" Hermione breathed. "…amazing."

The older witch continued that way for a few minutes, drawing Hermione closer and closer to the edge. Once she was certain that her young lover was sufficiently prepared, she placed her index finger only a few centimeters inside Hermione's body. "Are you ready?" she asked, looking up.

Hermione took a deep, relaxing breath and then nodded. Minerva knew that the fifteen understood that after this, nothing would be the same. They would no longer be friends with a mutual romantic interest. They would be lovers. Decidedly illegal ones, at that. Alas, they both knew the risks, and were willing to take them. She moved her body upward, her long arms still reaching where they wanted to be as she placed a gentle kiss on Hermione's lips.

Then, Minerva slowly moved her finger inside Hermione. The younger woman let out a long groan, which Minerva knew was a combination of pleasure and pain. She moved in and out for a minute, allowing Hermione's body to adjust, before adding a second finger. That when on for only a few seconds before Hermione hissed "Faster," and Minerva picked up the pace.

"Harder," Hermione demanded after a few more seconds, and Minerva took a deep breath before complying, knowing that going harder would result in deeper, and deeper meant that she was about to take Hermione's virginity.

"This may hurt a bit," she warned.

"I know," Hermione gasped as the walls of her vagina pulsed around the older witch's long, slender fingers. "I'm ready."

Minerva nodded and then began to furiously pump away, and a few seconds later, Hermione hissed in pain. "You okay?" the older witch asked, slowing down.

"Fine, keep going," the younger grunted. "So close."

Minerva picked the pace up again, and a minute later, Hermione let out a loud, satisfied moan as she orgasmed. "Ohhhhh myyyyy gooodd! Uh!"

After carefully removing her fingers, Minerva slipped out of her own, rather soaked knickers, and then lay down beside Hermione. Bodies intertwined, and kisses were exchanged. Minerva didn't care if they continued beyond this point tonight – they had the rest of their lives, after all. For now, she just wanted to hold Hermione close, and so she did.

* * *

**Well then, hope you all enjoyed THAT! Please review, you know, support your local MM/HG addict...**

**Next time on "Saturdays at Two" - Minerva and Hermione vs. The Pink Toad**


	5. Chapter 5

**Well, due to creative explosion, it looks like fifth year is going to break into two, maybe three chapters. This story has decided (I really do just comply with the plot bunny's bidding!) to take a drastic turn...please don't kill me. I was discussing the plot development with someone from the facebook MM/HG Group, concerning consequences Minerva and Hermione's actions...and well...here are some consequences. Enjoy! **

* * *

**Fifth Year**

_September 2, 1995_

Hermione knocked on Minerva's door after the portrait informed her that the password had been changed. Her head was spinning from what the stupid Ministry woman had said last night, concerned about how much she would really be able to interfere at Hogwarts.

The door swung open and Minerva appeared, still dressed in her stiff teaching robes. "Miss Granger," she said crisply. "Can I help you?"

Hermione blinked. Minerva had _never_ addressed her so formally. The first time she'd shown up at the older woman's office a few weeks into her first year, she'd been warm and kind. Not like this. "What's wrong?" she whispered.

Minerva peeked her head out the door way and looked both ways before unceremoniously dragging Hermione through the doorway. "Umbridge," she said with a sigh. "Hermione, we cannot risk meeting outside of class this term. That dratted woman is too smart – she was a Ravenclaw in Malcolm's year – and would undoubtedly figure out what's been going on between us."

Hermione stared incredulously. "You can't be serious!"

The older witch frowned. "Very serious, my dear. Delores Umbridge is one of the sneakiest, and most prejudiced witches I have ever encountered. She already hates me and would be more than happy to poke her nose into my personal life, if it meant causing me stress, or worse."

"What's she got against you?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Many things, most notably however, she blames me for her sister's death," Minerva explained. "Her elder sister, Lila, was a very kind woman, and looked nothing like Delores. Lila was my sister-in-law, married to Robert. Delores believes that had I not been courting Amelia at the time, I would have been there the night Voldemort attacked and killed my brother, Lila, and their son. Since that, my alleged offences have become more numerous, and more ridiculous. At this point, it's safe to say she'd love to find a way to destroy my life. You give her that opportunity."

Hermione frowned. She understood Minerva's point about the risk, but it still hurt. She already didn't like the pink toad, but now she found herself loathing her new Defense Professor. "Shite," she muttered.

"Language, Hermione," Minerva chastised.

A playful grin formed on the younger witch's lips. "You didn't seem to mind me swearing when you had my naked body writhing underneath you a few months ago."

Minerva blushed. "Oh, don't start. I still can't believe that we actually…"

"Had sex?" Hermione finished, stepping forward and brushing her hand across Minerva's cheek.

"Made love," Minerva corrected, nuzzling the cool fingers. "I love you so much, Hermione."

Hermione stood on her tip toes and kissed her lover. "You know I love you too."

"Still," Minerva said, returned the light kiss. "You should go. I'll see you in class, and I'll try to come up with some other way we can at least talk, safely."

"I'll hold you to that," Hermione promised.

* * *

_September 23, 1995_

Minerva looked up from her desk at two 'o' clock on Saturday afternoon, as Hermione entered, looking rather irked.

"I'm here for my detention, _Professor,_" she stated with a hiss.

"Hermione, relax," Minerva said. "I thought a faux detention would be a good opportunity to spend some time together, without Delores suspecting."

The fifth year Gryffindor's eyes narrowed. "Is that so?" she inquired sharply. "After the lecture you gave me about not taking unnecessary chances, _you_ risk giving me a detention over something stupid like helping Neville with a spell, when she's in the bloody room, and don't think she'd suspect?"

Minerva was at a loss for words. She thought Hermione would be happy to have this chance. "I thought we'd celebrate your birthday, dearest. I _thought_ you'd be excited."

Hermione huffed. "Umbridge already has me on her radar because I'm friends with Harry, and you are on her hit list because of your history. Any event she knows we'll both be at, even a detention, is a very good time for her to come storming in on some pretense. As Professor Moody said last term, _constant vigilance!_"

"That wasn't even the real Alistair Moody," the older witch argued.

"But it _was_ something he's been known to say," Hermione countered, "and good advice beside the point, no matter who it came from."

"Look, Hermione," Minerva snapped. "I'm trying to make things work between us, despite how utterly mad our relationship is. I'm starting to wonder if you really have it in you to handle a complicated romance."

Hermione bit her lip, eyes alight with fury. "Is that all, _Professor?_" she inquired. "I need to study for my OWLs."

"Fine," Minerva growled. "You are dismissed, _Miss Granger_."

Hermione spared a final moment to give Minerva the finger, and then stormed out of the office.

"Well then," Minerva muttered bitterly to herself, hurt by Hermione's gesture. "She is just another stupid teen, I guess."

The Transfiguration Professor grabbed a spare bit of parchment from a stack on her desk and a quill, intent on sending a quick Owl to Carrie.

_ H. is mad at me. Gave her detention as a ploy to spend time together, and she apparently thought it was a stupid risk. Flipped me the bird before storming off, not sure who should be apologizing. Advice? - MM _

* * *

_October 7, 1995_

It had been several weeks since Hermione and Minerva had spoken. Even in class, Hermione did not raise her hand, and Minerva did not ask her to assist like usual. In retrospect, the result of their argument was probably more suspicious than an afternoon spent together _in detention_. Hermione had regretted the way she'd acted toward Minerva as soon as she was out the door, but embarrassment at her childish behavior had prevented her from turning around and apologizing right then and there. Since then, Hermione had been trying to come up with something to make it up to her older lover.

Lover…

Hermione smiled as she stepped into the Room of Requirement, thinking about how it had felt at the end of last term to have Minerva's body on top of hers, and then later on, her body on top of Minerva's. God, every sensation had been new and wonderful. Better than any book in the world, though she'd never admit that to anyone. And the way Minerva had tasted… oh yes, Hermione was most definitely a lesbian. No question there.

The Room of Requirement, as Hermione had requested, now appeared to be something very similar to Minerva's quarters. There was a fireplace, a sofa, two chairs on one side of the room, along with some very familiar decorations, and a curtained off bedroom area on the other side of the room. "Now to get Minerva here," she muttered to herself, wondering if the room could simply bring her here, or if she'd have to find some other means of getting the older witch into her…trap.

In reply, the door to the room suddenly opened to show a long passage. Hermione walked over to it carefully, and smirked when she saw Minerva walking toward her with a look of confusion on her face. When the older witch reached the where Hermione was standing, the younger witch promptly offered an apology. "I'm sorry for how I acted the other week…and how I've been acting since. I was out of line in more ways than one, and…"

"Hermione, stop," Minerva interrupted her prepared speech. "I sent an Owl to Carrie right after you left, and she told me to just wait till you were ready to talk. I've not been avoiding you, I've simply been giving you space. I forgave you an hour after you'd left."

"You did?" Hermione asked shyly.

"My dear, as much as I try to forget it, you are sixteen years old," Minerva explained. "I love you with everything I am, but in reality, I cannot expect you to always act like an adult. You are still growing and maturing, and if the gods saw fit to bring us together before you were totally grown up, then I should be thanking them, not getting worked up over the few times when you actually act your age."

"Yea…" Hermione muttered, unsure of what else to say. "Still, I'm sorry."

"I am too, dearest," the older witch whispered, pulling her into a hug. "In reality, you were right about how risky giving you a detention was. We were both idiots that day."

"Typical Gryffindors, you mean?" Hermione jibed, pressing a kiss to Minerva's lips. "Impulsive – _kiss_ – wild – _kiss_ – danger seeking – _kiss_ –…"

"Sexy," Minerva groaned as Hermione, who had been quickly unbuttoning the older witch's robes, now grabbed a full, tanned breast. "God…Hermione…"

"There's a bed over there," Hermione said pointedly. She quickly moved behind the older witch, and then reclaimed a breast with one hand, and snaked her free hand across Minerva's now exposed stomach as she quickly guided the older witch to the other side of the room, eventually pushing forward, the momentum forcing Minerva to get on the bed, at least partly.

Hermione pulled away what remained of her lover's robes and roughly positioned her on the edge of the bed. Before Minerva had a chance to ask what she was up to, Hermione kneeled began rapidly flicking her tongue over Minerva's clit.

"Oh…'Mione…" Minerva panted, grabbing the post of the bad with one hand, and Hermione's hair with the other, to keep from falling over.

Hermione paused just long enough to strip herself down. "Hey Min," she said, "I was in the Restricted section of the Library…"

"What on earth where you doing there?" the older witch inquired sharply.

"…and I found a Transfiguration spell…that I'd like to try…"

Minerva stared and Hermione blushed. She knew her older lover would know exactly what spell she meant – she had to – and all Hermione was waiting for was permission. In truth, she'd only put off trying to do it herself first because if she couldn't _undo_ it herself…she'd need Minerva's help.

"Engorgo Clitoris," the older witch asked slowly.

Hermione nodded. "If you'd rather not…"

"If you want to try it," Minerva grinned. "Far be it from me to stop you."

Hermione took a deep breath and pointed her wand at her own clitoris. "_Engorgo Clitorus,_" she said clearly, and after a sharp pain which faded almost immediately, she looked down to see that her clitoris had increased in length and girth. It did not look like a male penis at all – there were no ugly veins and no top bit that looked like a mushroom. There was a small hole, like a male urethra, and Hermione figured that combining the clitoris and urethra was just part of how the spell worked. According to the book she'd read, the transfiguration differed between witches.

"Ready?" she asked, Cheshire grin forming on her face.

Minerva scooted back on the bed, and Hermione took the cue and climbed on top of her. The older witch spread her legs, and Hermione moved in close enough to rub her very erect pearl against Minerva's opening.

"Hummm…" Minerva moaned. Her body instinctively arched toward the shaft, inviting. "Want you, love."

Hermione experimentally thrust her hips forward, slowly, taking in the unfamiliar sensation. "Oh, shite," she moaned. That felt _amazing_. As Minerva's walls tremored around her elongated clit, it felt as if the older witch was kissing, licking, and sucking it all at the same time. From what the book suggested, she was in for what hell of an orgasm.

"Fuck me," Minerva hissed, digging her nails into Hermione's back. The clawing spurred the young woman into action, and she began thrusting in and out in a steady rhythm. Her untrained muscles protested as she began moving faster and thrusting harder, determined to make this good for Minerva as well as herself. Merlin knew how long it would be before they could get together like this again.

"Yes," Minerva whispered. "Almost there."

Hermione could feel her heart beating wildly, and a tight, tingling sensation gaining momentum with each forward motion. Suddenly, Minerva's legs wrapped around Hermione's hips, and her walls pulsed wildly. Hermione felt her own orgasm rush over her like nothing she'd felt before. Every ounce of energy in her was spent, and she collapsed on top of her older lover.

Minerva stroked her hair gently as Hermione lay with her head on the older woman's breast. "I can't wait to have forever with you," the Scottish woman said quietly. "I love you so much."

Hermione slid her bod off of Minerva's, and after a quick counter spell, her clitoris returned to normal and she assumed a position curled up next to her lover. "Tell me about our future," she suggested sleepily.

"That's a hard thing to picture," the older woman replied. "Right now I'm just focused on surviving this year. You'll be of age next fall, but you still have two more years of school to complete. I'm not even suggesting that I'm ashamed to call you mine, but I think it wise to wait till after you graduate to announce our relationship. I don't want to place your education above our convenience."

"Just one year at a time, then," Hermione concluded. "And for the record, I've been your dirty little secret for more than four years now. I don't mind."

"You may not mind, my love," Minerva said gently, "but you deserve more than a scandalous affair."

Hermione smiled and snuggled close to her lover. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there," she said. "Let's just enjoy the moment. Happy Birthday, Minerva."

* * *

_December 23, 1995_

Minerva took a deep breath and leaned against a wall, fighting back the nausea. Her appointment with Poppy last evening had yielded rather unexpected results, and a dilemma that she had no idea how to deal with. Right now, she was waiting for Hermione to arrive at her office, from which they would depart and she would be escorting her young lover home for the Christmas holiday. Good god that was going to be awkward.

Before she dropped Hermione off, Minerva was planning to stop in a very isolated tea shop, somewhere far, far from Hogwarts and Delores, where they needed to have a very serious talk. Minerva wasn't even sure where to being. For the love of Merlin how does a grown woman explain to her sixteen year old female lover that she is pregnant? Especially when she had no bloody idea how it had even happened? Well, Minerva knew that with the Engorgo Clitoris spell, in concert with potions that had to be taken by both partners, it was possible for two women to conceive a child. But without the potions? And _at her age_ for that matter? Well, she _was_ still menstruating, but when she'd missed her period, she just figured it was getting to that time. A bit early for a witch, she supposed, but…

"Hey Minerva," Hermione said, interrupting her thoughts. "Ready to go?"

The older woman nodded. "We're going to stop in London for tea before I drop you off."

"Great!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Not exactly," Minerva muttered. "We need to talk about something…"

Concern instantly became etched on the younger woman's face. "What's wrong?"

"Not here," the Scottish woman replied. "Let's go."

The pair walked in silence to the Apparation point just outside the gates of Hogwarts, and then Minerva side-alonged them both to the location she'd chosen for their chat. Upon arriving just outside the tea house, Minerva was overcome by nausea, again.

"Bugger," she hissed, letting go of Hermione and quickly walking to a nearby trash bin, in which she promptly threw up.

A moment later she felt Hermione behind her, gently stroking her back. "What's wrong, Minerva? Are you sick?" she asked worriedly.

Minerva caught her breath, and then turned to face her sixteen year old lover. "Hermione, I'm pregnant. Almost three months pregnant."

Hermione's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "Wh...what? How?"

Minerva rolled her eyes. "I haven't worked out all the details yet, but I'm fairly sure that it had something to do with a certain spell you wanted to try."

"But that can only allow two woman to have a child if you use the potions to go with it!" the sixteen year old explained. "We didn't use them!"

"I realize that, love," Minerva said calmly. "I just found out yesterday…I'd been feeling off so I went to see Poppy. You should have seen the look on her face when she told me. My reaction was…uh…let's just say I accused her of playing a rather cruel joke on me, but when she told me how far along I was, well…I can't exactly deny that I had sex on the day this child was conceived."

"Did she want to know who the father was?" Hermione inquired.

The older woman laughed. "Of course she did, not that I was about to tell her. I made her swear not to tell Albus until I'd decided what to do about it."

"Are you considering…abortion?" Hermione asked timidly.

"My love, I will not make a decision about this baby alone," Minerva stated as the two sat down on a bench. "It's yours as much as it is mine."

"Please," Hermione said slowly, "just tell me how you feel about this. Do you want to have this baby? I'd thought about our future, and the possibility of us having children down the road…but I expected I would carry them. Minerva, the fact that you ever got pregnant at your age…"

"Hey!" Minerva snapped, smacking Hermione's arm playfully.

"I'm just stating the facts!" Hermione exclaimed. "This could be your last chance to have a baby…to physically have a baby. You told me before that you regretted that you and your husband never got to have children…"

Minerva sighed. The idea of having a baby appealed to her more than she wanted to admit. Especially consider who she'd made this baby with. This child could be a link that held her and Hermione together though all the trials to come. On the other hand, this child could damn her – as it was living proof that she and Hermione had sex while Hermione was underage. The Wizengamot was pretty big on keeping mothers and children together, so there was a fairly good chance she wouldn't be sent to Azkaban, but she would undoubtedly lose her job. And Hermione would almost certainly be expelled. "If we have this baby we risk everything. If anyone finds out that the baby is yours, I will lose my job, and you will be expelled."

"Then someone else will have to claim the baby," Hermione reasoned. "You do want to keep it, don't you?"

Minerva nodded miserably. "Merlin forgive me, I do. But who on earth could we trust enough to get to claim it?" Minerva asked, still not sure this was a workable idea.

"Kingsley, obviously," Hermione said without hesitation. "If the baby gets my brown eyes, you could say they came from him. If the baby gets brown hair, well…don't know what to tell you there…"

"Robert had brown hair," Minerva said. Hermione was right, Kingsley was a perfect option. "The baby could have gotten it from my side of the family. You are bloody brilliant, Hermione."

The sixteen year old sighed. "As long as you…both of you are safe, I'm okay with you going ahead with the pregnancy. I would request that Poppy be told the truth – both so that she knows the other half of the baby's medical history, and so I'd be allowed to go to exams with you…and to be there when our child is born."

Minerva nodded. "As a Mediwitch, she is bound to confidentiality. She would not tell anyone. She will be furious with me, but she won't tell."

"We'll have to arrange for Umbridge to be otherwise occupied during your checkups. If she saw us leaving the Hospital Wing together, or even within in a few minutes of each other…" Hermione paused. "Actually, I can snag Harry's invisibility cloak for those. She'd never know I was there."

"If that's all settled," Minerva said, "I really need to get you back to your parents. You were to be home a half hour ago."

"I know," Hermione said, getting up. "Let's go. You talk to Kingsley over the Christmas break, and we'll work out the fine details when I get back to Hogwarts."

"You know, Hermione," Minerva said, pulling her young lover close. "I was worried you'd completely flip out. I mean, for want of better term, you're going to be a _father_ before you turn seventeen."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "My parents will be thrilled…"

* * *

**Please review! *scurries away to write more***


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, well, here's another chapter. It only covers Christmas break. While writing this installment, I was attacked by a giant plot bunny. It was huge. It had fangs. And it said "You will write this chapter, and then one more, and that will be the end of this story...AFTER THAT... you will write a sequel which covers the next seventeen years, which is centered on Hermione and Minerva's child." **

**So...that said...one more chapter after this, which will lead to the birth of their child, and then on to the sequel. Mind you, while this story fit creepily well into cannon, everything from this point forward is A.U. **

* * *

**Fifth Year - cont.**

_January 6, 1996_

Hermione had Owled Carrie as soon as she had a free moment after Minerva dropped her off. She didn't tell her anything, just that they needed to talk, soon, and in person. She couldn't risk even saying that it was about Minerva, afraid that Umbridge was tracking her Owls even over the holidays. Carrie had replied saying she'd meet her at the tea shop down the street on Saturday, which is where and when Hermione currently happened to be.

"Hey, cous," Carrie greeted, sliding into the booth across from Hermione. "What's so secretive you wouldn't risk telling me about it by Owl?"

"Min and I had sex," Hermione told her cousin. Up to this point she had only shared the bit about them snogging, so she figured she'd start small and work her way toward having…er…knocked her teacher up.

"Oh," Carrie said, raising her eyebrows. "You were ready, right? She didn't force…"

"God, no!" Hermione interjected. "She'd never force me into anything intentionally."

Carrie frowned. "And unintentionally?" she asked.

"It's not like that," Hermione muttered. "I mean, we didn't plan to…it wasn't supposed to happen like that…"

"Hermione…" Carrie said, tone growing more and more concerned.

Hermione gulped. "She's pregnant. I got her pregnant."

Carrie's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets. "Are you serious?" she squeaked.

"Dead serious. She's due end of June," Hermione said evenly, having found her nerve now that the metaphorical bomb had been dropped.

And then something happened that Hermione had not been expecting. Carrie started to laugh. Hysterically.

"What's so funny?" the younger cousin asked, irritated.

"You have to realize that most people perceive Minerva as a stiff old witch. The idea of her having _any_ lover is insane enough, then to have a very much younger, not to mention underage lover, not to mention a female…god, damn, 'Mione, who got her bloody pregnant," Carrie laughed. "I assume for the sake of your education and her job, you won't claim the baby as yours…"

"That was our thought as well," Hermione affirmed.

"No one would believe it anyhow," Carrie mused, smirking. "Oh, I'll say it right now – I absolutely do not want to know what was involved in you knocking you up the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts."

"I was not planning telling you," the younger witch retorted. "That said, will you help us hide this?"

"Course I will," Carrie said. "For starters, I'm going down to the Ministry and filing for custody of you. If this does get out, then your parents will probably file statutory rape charges on Minerva. Even if the Wizengamot doesn't send her to Azkaban because of the baby, she would still have to face the muggle law. If I have legal custody of you, your parents loose the right to file such charges."

"Good point," Hermione breathing, feeling stupid for not considering that already.

"Is she gunna talk to Kings about claiming to be the father?" Carrie asked.

"Yea, that was my suggestion," Hermione said, annoyed. "I didn't realize you knew Minerva this well."

"I've known her longer than you, kiddo," the older cousin smirked. "But in fairness, I only know about Kings and Malcolm because Kings is my boss, and often mentions her. _Minerva _this," Carrie said, imitating Kingsley's baritone voice, "_Minerva_ that. If I didn't know he was a bloody poof I'd wonder if he fancied her."

And at that moment, Hermione laughed, feeling more relaxed than she had since Minerva had told her the news.

* * *

_January, 13, 1996_

"Hello, Kingsley," Minerva greeted her brother-in-law. "Thanks for coming all the way to Poole."

"Well with Delores at Hogwarts, it would be difficult to have a private conversation there," the dark skinned man replied. "And as you did not simply send me an Owl, I assume you wanted to talk about something personal."

"Very," Minerva replied with a sigh. "I seem to have gotten myself into a situation which could have severe legal repercussions."

Kingsley looked hard at his sister-in-law. "Keep talking," he said as they made their way into the cozy library.

Minerva waited till they were both seated to continue. "I've become romantically involved with one of my students... an underage student."

The Author raised his eyebrows. "How old is this boy?"

"Not a boy, Kingsley," Minerva said, squirming in her seat as her stomach did a few flipflops. "_She_ just turned sixteen a few months ago, and we have been involved for two years now."

Kingsley looked stunned. "If you were looking for advice, then I'd suggest stopping this affair before Delores finds out and ruins you. What were you thinking Min?"

"I fell in love," the witch sighed. "And I am afraid that the very wise suggestion of yours is not an option, as there is a pregnancy to consider."

"You got a sixteen year old girl pregnant?" Kingsley yelped.

"No," Minerva whispered. "It was she that got me pregnant. I am due in July."

Kingsley Shacklebolt just stared at her for a moment, as if waiting for her to crack a grin and say that this whole conversion was a joke. And then to her surprise, he sighed and sat back in his chair. "Despite the circumstances, congratulations. I remember how difficult it was after your husband died and left you childless."

Minerva rubbed her temples. "Thanks. The decision to go through with this pregnancy is not one we've taken lightly. I am not even sure how I bloody got pregnant in the first place. She was employing a charm that, when used in concert with a particular potion, can help two women conceive, but we did not use the potions."

"If you have identical magical signatures," Kingsley mused, "it would not only explain the pregnancy, but also how and why you were drawn to each other regardless of the age gap. Who is this girl?"

Minerva considered carefully before speaking. His theory about identical magical signatures was dead on. She was surprised she hadn't thought about it sooner. It was exceedingly rare, after all. The last reported case had been the conception of Godric Gryffindor, as far as she knew. "Hermione Granger," she finally confessed.

Kingsley laughed. "I have not had the pleasure of meeting her yet, though I have heard a few stories about the brainy best friend of Harry Potter. Are you telling me this girl is involved in an illicit affair, and still has time to get top marks at school, and help Harry Potter save the wizarding world? She must be something else."

"She is," Minerva sighed. "I love her."

"I should hope so," Kingsley laughed, "as you are having a child with her."

"I need a favor, Kingsley," the Scottish witch said quietly. "A big one."

"Name it," he replied. "It's about time you cash in on all those _I owe you's_ that I've accumulated."

Minerva paused, trying to think of a way to diplomatically ask her brother in law to save her, Hermione, and their child from a mountain of trouble. She came up with nothing, so just went with the blunt approach. "I need you to claim this child as your own. If anyone finds out the child is Hermione's…"

Kingsley nodded. "I was already planning to offer to do just that. Malcolm would never forgive me if I let you get carted off to Azkaban because you chose to follow your heart."

A sigh of relief escaped Minerva's lips. "I can't thank you enough," she said. "Now all that's left to do is convince Albus that he should keep his mouth shut. You, Carrie, and he are the only ones who know about your relationship with Mal. Carrie has known about Hermione and I for a while, and is fine with it. Hermione is supposed to be talking to her about the baby during the break."

"Carrie Green?" Kingsley asked, looking perplexed. "What's her connection to Hermione?"

"Oh, sorry," Minerva chuckled. "I forgot to tell you – turns out Carrie and Hermione's cousin. Neither knew the other was a witch until last year when I made the connection for them. Hermione parents are the type of muggles who fear our kind, and I think Carrie's mother knew her sister was like that, which is why the Greens never told the Grangers about Carrie being a witch, and Hermione's parents have been tight lipped about where their daughter goes to school and why, as well."

"Ha!" the Auror smirked. "Small world!"

"That's what I said," Minerva nodded.

"So," Kingsley said, leaning forward. "Have you decided what you're going to do once the baby is born? You cannot expect to be able to continue teaching, and have Hermione continue her education, and still be there for your child. I can claim to be the father, but I cannot be an active part of his or her life, especially not while doing so involves nappies."

A wry grin formed on Minerva's lips. "I'm still considering my options. Money is not an issue, but if I quit teaching, that will mean leaving Hogwarts, which will mean being away from Hermione, and keeping her away from our child. I don't think either of us could handle that."

* * *

_January 20, 1996_

Hermione had managed to borrow Harry's invisibility cloak before they'd parted for Christmas break. Right now she was waiting for Minerva to arrive at her house, to sneak her back to Hogwarts for the afternoon so they could talk to Poppy together. With the pregnancy already so far along, they didn't want to wait any longer than they had to before Minerva had her first prenatal exam, and Hermione had insisted on being there.

There was a knock on the door, and Hermione bounded towards it. Unfortunately, her mum got there first. "What are you doing here?" Mrs. Granger inquired rudely. "Term at that school of yours doesn't start up for another week."

"Mum, don't be rude to Minerva," Hermione said impatiently, seeing her lover's annoyed expression.

"Is it custom for your lot to address your teachers so informally?" Mrs. Granger asked her daughter sharply. "How uncivilized."

Hermione grabbed her beaded bag off the table, slipped on her coat, and maneuvered around her mum and beside Minerva. "Generally, no, students would not address their professors by their given names. However, your daughter and I share many common interest, ma'am," Minerva answered stiffly. "As such, we have gotten close over the course of her education, and I have given her permission to address me as such while not in class. Not to state the obvious, but she is not currently in class."

"Of all the nerve…" Mrs. Granger began retorting.

"Students have the right to stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas break," Minerva interrupted, "and yet for some reason that I do not understand, Hermione chose to spend the holiday with you and your husband. If she wishes to spend one afternoon during her break at the school, I am happy to accommodate her."

Hermione groaned. Minerva was not normally this quick to snap…must be the hormones. But for the love of Merlin, why did she have to let it out on her mother? "Minerva," she said warningly. "Let's just go."

"Of course, my dear," her older lover said with a sigh, offering her hand.

"I'll be back in time for dinner, mum," Hermione said in an apologetic tone.

Mrs. Granger huffed. "Your father and I will probably go to dinner with the Danbury's. No need to rush back."

With that, the door slammed shut and Hermione let out an exasperated groan. When Minerva had dropped her off a few weeks ago, they had not been home, and therefore had not seen Minerva. This was the first they'd encountered the older woman since the day she'd told them Hermione was a witch.

"I would ask what your problem is," Hermione muttered, "but I know. How are you feeling?"

Minerva groaned. "I'm sorry, love. I have been finding it difficult to maintain my temper of late. Must be the…"

"Hormones," Hermione finished, "Yea, I figured. It's okay. It's not as if my mum was being pleasant to you. How she and dad feel won't matter much longer. Carrie is filing for formal custody of me."

"Why?" Minerva asked, looking puzzled. "You'll be seventeen in less than a year."

"And if anyone finds out about our relationship between now and then, my parents would have the authority to file a statutory rape suit against you," she explained. "Carrie being my legal guardian refutes that right for them."

"Oh, bugger," Minerva muttered. "Didn't even consider the muggle law system."

"I didn't either," Hermione admitted. "Carrie brought it up, and I told her to go ahead with the paperwork."

"Hold on to me," Minerva said as the pair reached a point far enough away from the street to allow them to apparate to Hogwarts. Hermione wrapped her arm around Minerva's waist and a second later, they reappeared at the school gates.

"I talked to Kingsley," Minerva said, "and he agreed to claim the child, though he refuses to change nappies."

Hermione giggled. "I can't wait to meet this man."

"He's wonderful, and brilliant," the older witch said as they began the walk towards the school. "He figured out how I got pregnant without the potions, or at least, presented a very sound theory which Poppy should be able to confirm."

"And that would be?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Identical magical signatures negates the need for the potion," Minerva said, knowing Hermione would have read all about the rare phenomenon.

"Of course!" Hermione said, smacking her forehead. "That explains everything! Our connection formed so quickly…oh, I should have thought of that."

Minerva nodded. "Hindsight always is twenty-twenty."

As the pair got closer to the entrance of Hogwarts, Hermione slipped Harry's invisibility cloak on, just in case Umbridge happened to be lurking. She was not supposed to be here for another week, but Hermione had been adamant about being with Minerva during this visit. She knew Carrie would be supportive of their situation, as she had been of their relationship all along, and she'd expected the same out of Kingsley Shacklebolt. Poppy would be bound by the Mediwitch Oath to keep their secret, but that did not guarantee she was going to react well when she found out who had gotten her friend of thirty years pregnant.

"Once inside the Hospital Wing," Minerva whispered. "I'll ward the doors and then you can remove the cloak. If I'm lucky, Poppy will put two and two together and I won't have to actually _tell_ her why you're there with me."

Hermione resisted the urge to giggle. "Chicken," she whispered back.

A few minute later, they were in the Hospital Wing, and the doors were safely warded. Hermione had just removed the cloak when Poppy came out of her office and saw the two of them standing there. She seemed to be assessing Hermione for some injury – for the reason she'd been escorted to the hospital wing.

"Miss Granger, are you injured?" she finally asked.

Hermione took a deep breath and stepped up to the plate. "No, I'm perfectly healthy. I am here with Minerva," she said, taking the older witch's hand."

Poppy looked confused by the statement, and by Hermione's action. She looked at Minerva, as if seeking some explanation, and then her eyes widened. "Minerva, please, please, please….tell me I'm not seeing what I think I'm seeing."

Minerva shifted uncomfortably. "Well…"

"YOU BEDDED YOUR STUDENT?" Poppy roared.

Hermione saw Minerva gulp. "Yes," the Transfiguration Professor admitted to her longtime friend.

"I was not pressured into it, for the record," Hermione piped in, hoping to steer the school Matron away from any notion that Minerva had forced her to do anything.

"Be that as it may, Miss Granger," Poppy hissed, "As the ADULT, she should have known better!"

"Poppy," Minerva pleaded, "Before you're heart explodes, could you humor me and run a check to see if we have identical magical signatures? We were not _trying_ to get pregnant. Our running theory on how it happened without the appropriate potions is…"

Poppy's expression went from furious to curious in the space of three seconds. Her wand started flicking in their direction wildly. "Bloody hell," she muttered.

"Were we right?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, and no," Poppy answered. "You do have identical cores, which explains why you couldn't keep your hands off each other…"

The Matron paused to glare at them.

"But?" Minerva asked impatiently.

"The fact that you got pregnant _could_ have been because of that, but I suspect is has more to do with the fact that Miss Granger comes from the line of Merlin…"

"I'm muggleborn, that's impossible!" Hermione said.

"Well I'd suggest doing some research into your family tree, Miss Granger," Poppy snapped, "because the line of Merlin was supposed to have died out two centuries ago. Yet the signature is there. It may have been sitting on a recessive gene, passed down from who knows how many generations of squibs, finally meeting again when you were born."

"Is that possible?" Minerva asked.

"If it wasn't, do you think I'd be suggesting it?" the Matron grumbled. "The reason that is significant is because magic on a whole is, in its own way, self-aware. I suspect that Hogwarts, which was built by four decedents of Merlin, sensed Miss Granger's heritage and did what it needed to do in order to perpetuate Merlin's line."

"Fascinating," Hermione said excitedly.

"Remind me to check the family tree of any lovers I may have in the future," Minerva grumbled, "prior to having sex with them."

Hermione elbowed the older witch. "If I have it my way, you won't have any other lovers."

Minerva beamed at Hermione, and leaned in to kiss her, to which the younger woman responded with a moan.

"Oh, knock it off, you two!" Poppy ordered.

* * *

_January 27, 1996_

Minerva walked slowly to the Head Tower, on her way to speak to Albus about all that had happened. Hermione had wanted to be here today, as she had with Poppy, but Minerva knew that her lover and friend had a tense enough relationship as it was and felt it best if she told him alone.

"Albus," she said, stepping into the office and seeing him sitting amidst a large pile of papers. "I need a bit of your time."

The Headmaster looked up. "Should I be wearing my _friend hat_, or _Headmaster hat_?" he inquired with a small smile. Minerva knew he could tell she was a bundle of nerves.

"Friend," Minerva choked. Merlin, this was hard. Telling Poppy had been difficult because of the friendship between them, but Albus was more than that. He was a friend, mentor, and father figure in some ways. He had warned her to be careful, and she had disregarded him. The idea of disappointing him hurt greatly.

"Then am I to assume this has something to do with Miss Granger?" He asked.

Minerva nodded.

"Have you had sex?" was his blunt inquiry that followed.

The emerald clad witch nodded again. "I…I'm pregnant, Albus."

The Headmaster's eyes widened considerably. "I do not believe you would have gotten pregnant by an underage student on purpose, so what else are you not telling me?"

"Poppy says that Hermione and I have identical magical signatures," Minerva explained. "And that is what negated the need for the potion normally required for two women to procreate."

"That does explain the draw between you," Albus mused. "Though it is still odd that you would have become pregnant, at your age."

Minerva huffed. "Yes, yes, the irony has not escaped me. Poppy discovered something interesting about Hermione that she feels might have contributed to the conception – that Hermione is in fact an heir of Merlin – and that Hogwarts…"

"Sensed it, yes," the Headmaster finished. "Bloody hell."

Minerva tilted her head, confused look on her face. Albus _never_ used expletives. She'd seen him furious before, and never once had she heard him swear. "What?" she asked, concerned.

"Minerva, don't you know anything about your lineage?" he asked in an exasperated tone.

"Not much," she said crisply. "Mother's side descended from Godric Gryffindor…"

"Which descended from the line of Morgana," Albus said pointedly. "Which means that your child is a…"

"Scientiat?" Minerva gasped. The implications of her own lineage mixed with Hermione's was huge. Merlin's line and Morgana's line had only crossed once before, resulting in a wizard born with all knowledge of magic which ever existed; a genetic memory of spells and potions, many of which had been long ago forgotten by time. So much knowledge , both light and dark, influenced the child as he grew. Imhotep had gone on to be one of the darkest wizards in history, and since then, it had been forbidden that a child like that, a _scientiat_ be allowed to be born. Over the centuries, couples who united the lines of Merlin and Morgana were forced into aborting any child they conceived. A few people had tried to save their child, and ended up in Azkaban for their troubles. What happened to the scientiats who had been born in the years since Imhotep was a great mystery, though most believed that they were simply killed before they were old enough to even walk.

Minerva sank to the floor, shock coursing through her. She had _known_ she was in trouble…but this was a lot worse than she thought. For decades she had longed for a child of her own, and now that she was pregnant, it was a child that was not meant to exist. She clutched her hand protectively over her swelling abdomen before slowly looking up at her friend, tears coursing down her cheeks. "What am I going to do?" she whispered.

* * *

**Da-da-da-da! **

***wicked grin* Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay, here it is! The final chapter of Saturdays at Two! Yes, there is a sequel coming...that said, I still need to plot it out so it may be a few weeks before you get the first upload for that. That said, it's going to be called "Scientiat", so keep your eyes peeled. Now, without further ado...**

* * *

**Fifth Year - cont**

_February 17, 1996_

Hermione sat tucked away in the Restricted Section of the Library with Minerva. She smiled as her lover placed a protective hand over her swelling abdomen. At four months pregnant, it was still easy for the Deputy Head to hide her impending motherhood, but she didn't around the _father_ of her child.

"You okay?" Hermione asked, seeing Minerva's face twitch.

"Baby's moving around a bit," she explained. "It's an odd feeling. That said, we need to pack up here and head to the Hospital Wing. Poppy is expecting us."

Hermione flicked her wand, and the pile of books that had been scattered about piled themselves neatly together, after which she levitated then into her trusty beaded bag. "If Umbridge wasn't here, we'd be celebrating Valentine's today," she commented as they began to walk toward the exit of the library.

"I know," Minerva replied. "I was thinking perhaps after the appointment we could sneak off to the Room of Requirement."

Hermione snickered. "And someday, when Harry and Ron find out we're together, I'll tell them how I shagged you in the same room we held the D.A."

Minerva elbowed her. "I have been thinking about that…telling the boys," she said seriously. "I've got Kingsley and Albus, along with Poppy of course, to talk to about this…but you have no one, other than Carrie, who can't come around much. Do you think that Harry and Ron are ready to know?"

Hermione looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure. Maybe at the end of the term, so they'll have the summer hols to get over the shock. If it was just telling them about us, that would be one thing, but with the baby…"

"It's more complicated," Minerva finished her thought. "I know. I am sorry, love."

Hermione stopped, grabbed Minerva's forearms tightly, and forced the older witch to look at her. "Never," she said firmly, "ever be sorry about any of this. I love you McGonagall, and us having a baby makes me love you more, not less. Get that through your thick head."

Minerva looked startled at first, but eventually offered a smile and nodded. "Okay."

The two continued to walk to the Hospital Wing, side by side. "Let's go find out if we're having a boy or girl," Hermione said with a grin as the door to Poppy's domain came into view.

The older witch sighed. "I don't deserve you, but I'm glad you think otherwise," she whispered as Hermione opened the door for her.

They were greeted by Poppy, who huffed at their proximity as she always did when she saw them side by side. "Get in here and ward the bloody doors," she hissed.

Hermione set the wards while Minerva got situated on a bed as per Poppy's direction. After she was done, the younger witch took her place at Minerva's bedside, stroking her lover's hand gently as Poppy poked, prodded, and cast diagnostic spells.

"Did you decide if you want to know the gender of the product of your asinine affair?" the Matron asked Minerva. She was ignoring Hermione, as usual, but the younger woman didn't really care. As long as Poppy let her in here for Minerva's exams, and then for the birth, the school nurse could be as rude as she wanted.

"Yes, _we_ would," Minerva replied, emphasis on the 'we'.

"It's a girl," she said after a quick flick of her wand over her long time friend's abdomen. A moment later, her expression softened and she laid a gentle hand on Minerva's leg. "You're having a daughter, Min."

Hermione watched as Minerva's eyes sparkled, and she knew that this moment had changed everything. The pregnancy was now very real to both of them, in a joyful way which neither of them had previously felt. Up till now, news regarding their unborn child was merely clinical facts about a big mistake they had to deal with. Now, however, Hermione felt a flutter of love beginning to form for the daughter that they had created together. "I love you," she murmured, squeezing Minerva's hand.

"And I love you," Minerva replied.

"You two better not start snogging," Poppy snipped, reminding them she was still standing there.

They ignored her, and did just as she had asked them not to do.

"Oi!" the Matron squealed.

* * *

_March 16, 1996_

After a bit more consideration, Hermione had decided that she was ready to tell the boys about them. Minerva had agreed to them knowing on condition that she be there when they were told, and so today at promptly two 'o' clock she was standing outside of the Room of Requirement waiting for Hermione, Harry, and Ron to arrive. Hermione had told the boys she wanted to talk to them privately, and so they had agreed to gather here. She had not mentioned Minerva being involved at all. The Transgifuration Professor was sure they would be inclined to flee when they arrived and saw her, but that couldn't be helped.

Speaking of…

"Good afternoon," she greeted the Trio of friends.

Ron not so subtly tried to use hand signals to ask the other two how they were going to get her to bugger off so they could get into the Room of Requirement, and Minerva took the initiative and offered an explanation. "Hermione asked me to join the three of you today."

"Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Minerva is meant to be here," she confirmed. "Come on, let's get in the Room before the Pink Toad come around."

The boys both shrugged, and turned to the door, which had appeared when Minerva touched the wall.

"How'd you do that, Professor?" Ron asked.

"I've been at Hogwarts a bit longer than you have, Ron," she said quietly.

The red haired boy was startled at her use of his first name, eyes widening. Harry also seemed surprised, but neither of the boys said anything as they followed the two women into the Room of Requirement, which had taken the shape of the very room she had Hermione had conceived their son in…sans the four-poster bed, anyway. The cozy sitting room environment was exactly what they needed today.

"Okay, so what's up, 'Mione?" Ron asked bluntly. "And how come Professor McGonagall is here?" he asked, eyeballing the older witch suspiciously.

"She is here so that if you react badly to what I'm about to tell you, she can Obliviate it from your minds," Hermione said, matter-of-factly. "As what I want to share with you is a secret that cannot go beyond this room. Aside from Minerva and I, only four people know."

Harry frowned. "Okay then, what is it? And how come you get to call the Professor by her first name?"

Hermione took a deep breath, and glanced at Minerva before continuing. "I call her by her first name because we developed a close friendship during the first few years of school. What I want to tell you is that our friendship has…grown in the last two years, and has reached a point to which we felt it was a good idea to tell our close friends."

Harry and Ron just stared, obviously not getting her very eloquent way of telling them. Minerva got up from her arm chair, and walked over to where Hermione was sitting on the sofa, and took a seat close to her young lover. She draped her arm around her young lover, and gave her a quick kiss on the temple.

Harry started catching on first. "Exactly…how close…are we talking about, Hermione?" he asked slowly.

"Close enough that we're having a baby together," Hermione said point blank.

"Who's having a baby?" Ron asked, looking perplexed.

"_We_ are, Ronald," Hermione groaned. "As in me and Minerva. As in she is pregnant with my daughter. As in I am shagging our Professor."

_Well then_, Minerva thought to herself. _It didn't get much clearer than _that_, now did it?_

"Bloody hell!" was Ron's predictable response.

Harry's reaction was more surprising. "I had started to suspect, towards end of last term, if there was something going on between you…but wow, a baby. Congratulations."

"You guys can't tell a soul," Hermione stated firmly. "I am trusting you to keep this to yourself. If anyone finds out, I'll be expelled, Minerva will be fired, if not put in Azkaban, and our daughter…"

Minerva rubbed circles on Hermione's back, knowing that her younger lover was having difficulty coping with the knowledge that their daughter would spend her entire life being hunted. The brilliant young woman could handle everything from an older lover, to an unplanned pregnancy, on top of OWLs, being Harry Potter's friend, and managing a secret Dueling club right under the nose of Delores Umbridge, but the idea of her child being threatened was where Hermione Granger met her breaking point, no matter how much she wanted Minerva to believe otherwise.

"We'll swear a wizard's oath to keep your secret," Ron said suddenly. "Right Harry?"

"Right!" the Boy-Who-Lived agreed enthusiastically. "Thanks for trusting us, 'Mione…and…"

Minerva chuckled. "You boys may call me by my given name, but only in private."

"Right then," Harry said, looking awkward.

"Oh, boys!" Hermione said, launching forward and enveloping the pair of them in a tight hug.

* * *

_April 13, 1996_

"Good afternoon, ladies," Albus Dumbledore greeted Hermione and Minerva.

Hermione and Minerva stepped into the Head's office and each took a seat on the opposite side of the large desk at which the Headmaster sat. "Albus, it's time to make some final decisions regarding my place at Hogwarts," the elder witch stated. "As I think I am a getting too fat to hide my pregnancy from the student population any longer. I've already caught a few students looking at my stomach and whispering to their friends. If the rumor mill is not already talking about my condition, it soon will be. I prefer to give them the facts up front rather than leave them to speculate."

"By _the facts_, I presume you mean the identity of the father of your child," Albus said, "and to not let them become suspicious of a second mother, instead."

Hermione squirmed in her seat. She hated all of this cloak and dagger stuff. If it didn't mean risking Azkaban for Minerva, not to mention the life of their daughter, she would be proud to stand up and announce to the whole blood school that she was Minerva's lover. For the rest of her daughter's life, no one could know who truly fathered her. She and Minerva had even debated on if the child would know the truth, and if she did, when would they tell her. Hermione wondered if they would have to keep their relationship a secret from their own daughter, at least while she was too young to understand the importance of keeping a secret.

"As I've told you, Kingsley has agreed to be publically acknowledged as the father," Minerva replied. "And of course, I do not want the general student body, or the wizarding population overall, to be aware of the fact that this child is truly Hermione's."

"Our major concern beyond that," Hermione said, joining the conversation, "is that one of us will have to be caring for the baby. Logically, my quitting school to do so would as stupid as announcing to the Prophet that it was I who got Minerva pregnant. This, of course, means that Minerva must step down, at least in part, from teaching."

Minerva nodded. "I'm inclined to stay on for the NEWT level students – I can have a house elf watch the baby while I teach…"

"Of course, your interest in staying on staff, even if only part time," Albus concluded, eying them over his half-moon spectacles, "is so that you have a legitimate reason to continue residing at Hogwarts, close to your lover."

Minerva glared at Albus. "Yes, as it would be nice to not be the sole parent to our child. Hermione deserves to be part of her daughter's life, and that is not something she could do if I leave Hogwarts outright."

"And if Delores continues to teach Defense next term?" Albus inquired. "She knows Kingsley would never actually be with you, and she knows you take female lovers. There is no possible way she will believe your story about Kingsley being the father, and it will only be a matter of time before she figures out that your real lover is Hermione."

"I could just turn her into the toad that she is," Minerva snipped.

"Min," Hermione said gently. "calm down."

Minerva took a deep breath. "We will cross that bridge when we get there. I refuse to stress out over what to do about Delores next term, until _next term_ arrives."

Hermione disagreed with Minerva on that count, though she said nothing. Delores Umbridge was the one person that could put the pieces together, and as soon as the Wizarding World knew Minerva was pregnant, the pink toad would start asking questions.

"Fine then," Albus said. "You will stay at Hogwarts, but only teach sixth and seventh years. I will assign the Head of House duties to whoever I bring in to teach the lower levels, so you can give more attention to your child."

"Thank you, Albus," Minerva said sincerely.

The three continued talking about the logistics of what next year would look like, and how they would keep the biggest secret Hogwarts had ever held. A few hours later, they headed down to dinner. Hermione had left the Head's office first, joining Harry and Ron at the Gryffindor table, and a few minutes later, the fifth year looked up to see Albus and Minerva enter the Great Hall.

Minerva took her seat, and Albus moved to the podium to make _the announcement._ Hermione gripped Ron's hand under the table, and held her breath.

"Good evening, students!" Albus said cheerfully. "I have an announcement to make this evening. I am sad to say that Professor McGonagall will no longer be teaching full time after this term."

The collective student body reacted in sighs of displeasure. Minerva really was a wonderful teacher – Hermione didn't know of a single student that actually disliked her. They might dislike Transfiguration, but not the Gryffindor Head of House herself.

Hermione looked intently at the Head table, carefully watching for the reaction of the rest of the staff. Students wouldn't seconds guess why a teacher was stepped down, nor be suspicious of her reasons, but the staff members, including Delores Umbridge, had known Minerva for years and all looked very surprise at what Albus was saying. At least, all of them except Poppy, who was looking intently at her empty goblet.

"I know, I know," Albus said, consoling surprised students and teachers alike. "However, Professor McGonagall's reasons for stepping down are because of a very happy thing in her life. You may all congratulate your Professor, as she and the Head Auror at the Ministry are expecting a child this summer."

Pomona Sprout's squeal of delight could be heard through the entire hall. Filius Flitwick looked a bit shell shocked, Hermione thought, Delores Umbridge appeared to be finding it difficult to contain her glee – though Hermione knew that her glee had nothing to do with being happy for Minerva. Hagrid was grinning like an idiot, and the other teachers were politely offering congratulations. Except for Severus Snape, Hermione noted. He simply raised an eyebrow, and shot a quick glance at the Gryffindor table, scanning until he found her. Their eyes locked, and even from that distance, she could see the look of amusement on his face.

_Shit,_ Hermione thought. _Snape knows._

* * *

_May 18, 1996_

Minerva smiled as the door to her quarters opened, and Hermione stepped in. It was a risk, yes, but they were long overdue for some time together, and had agreed on an afternoon detention as an excuse for the sixteen year old to be there. On official record, Hermione would be serving detention by assisting Professor McGonagall in reorganizing her personal library.

"Did you like my show?" Hermione asked with a smirk, referencing what she had done to _get_ the detention.

Minerva chuckled. "Were you not my lover, I would have done more than give you detention for suggesting, in front of the whole class, that I was a horrid example for having a child out of wedlock."

The younger witch grinned, plopping on the sofa beside her lover. "I was hoping to get a spanking out of it, actually."

"Oh, were you now?"

"Truthfully," Hermione confessed, "I knew my outburst would get back to Delores, and was hoping that if I acted disgusted at the thought of you having a baby, it would put me off her suspect list for a while."

"Very Slytherin," Minerva stated, raising an eyebrow.

"Speaking of Slytherin," Hermione said quietly. "Did you notice Severus' reaction to the announcement last month? I kept meaning to say something to you about it, but we haven't had a chance to talk privately."

"I was a bit overwhelmed by Pomona rupturing my eardrum at the moment," the older witch mutter, cringing at the memory.

"He looked at you, raised his eyebrow, and then looked right at me," Hermione said. "I think he knows, or at least, suspects."

Minerva frowned. "Normally, I'd say I'll speak to him, but if he doesn't know, then me approaching him with certainly tip him off."

"Agreed," Hermione sighed. "I guess we'll just have to keep an eye on him, and hope he doesn't blow our cover if he does know. He couldn't possibly know about our respective family lines, but he's smart enough to speculate that we have identical magical signatures, like Kingsley did."

"He may approach one of us about it, in due time," Minerva nodded. "Oh, I talked to Carrie on Thursday, and she's agreed to take the Transfiguration post for at least the next two years. After you graduate, we can discuss other options, but till then, I'll need to care for the baby."

"That's great!" Hermione grinned. "It's going to be neat having her teach…granted, she's not you."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere, my love."

"Nowhere? Are you sure?" the sixteen year old asked slyly. "If I said that you were the most amazing, smart, and sexy woman on the face of the earth…that wouldn't get me anywhere?"

Minerva pulled Hermione close. "It might have three or four months ago," she said. "But I'm afraid that I'm too tired to do much more than sit here, at this point."

Hermione smiled, and slid her hand over Minerva's stomach. She shifted position so that her face was only inches from the growing baby bump. "Are you wearing your mum out, little girl?" she said.

"What should we name her?" Minerva asked quietly. "We haven't talked about that yet. I…I want you to pick her name…since you won't be able to publically claim her…and she will have to be a McGonagall…"

Hermione nodded. "I've been thinking about names. I think I like Anura."

"Anura Hermione McGonagall," Minerva said. "I like it. I love it, actually."

Hermione blushed. "I hadn't settled on a middle name, but that was not my list."

"Hermione," Minerva said, kissing Hermione gently. "I want to name her for you…because I wouldn't have her, if it wasn't for you."

Hermione responded to the kiss and smiled. "I love you so much," she said.

"And I love you," the older woman replied.

* * *

_June 7, 1996_

Hermione didn't even think when she saw Delores Umbridge and the Auror's arguing with Hagrid's arrest with Minerva. She left up from the exam table and made a dash for the stairs. Two minutes later, she was running full force toward her lover's position near Hagrid's cabin. The darkness covered her approach, put the minute she saw the Delores pull her wand and point it at Minerva, she showed her position by way of hitting two of the wizards with stunning spells. The third Auror's own stunning spell hit it's mark, sending Minerva flying. The fourth Auror moved behind Delores in a defensive posture. Hermione winced as she saw her lover laying on the ground, clutching her stomach.

"What on earth do you think you're doing, Miss Granger!" Delores screeched. "You just assaulted Aurors from the Ministry of Magic! I'll see you expelled for this!"

"You hurt her!" Hermione screamed. _"Expelliarmus!" _

A moment later, the two Aurors still standing were both disarmed, leaving Delores as the only offender still with a wand. Hermione had no idea what came over her in the seconds that followed, but hearing Minerva whimpering on the ground behind her made the younger witch see red. She tossed her wand on the ground, and picked up one of the Aurors' wands instead. _"Crucio!" _she whispered, sending Delores crumbling to the ground.

"Aaaagghhh!" the pink clad woman screamed.

"Hermione, no!" Minerva's voice rang.

Hermione paused for a minute, but did not look back at Minerva. Her anger had fueled the use of one Unforgivable. Her brains had told her to use someone else's wand to do it. Her heart knew that Delores Umbridge would take away all that she loved if it didn't end now. And so, Hermione made a choice.

"You dare draw your want on the mother of my child?" she whispered, kneeling close to Delores.

The Ministry woman looked up at the sixteen year old in shock. "Yours?" she squeaked.

Hermione nodded. "Last mistake you'll ever make, Delores. _Avada Kadavra._"

A green flash of light, and Hermione's world was changed forever. Delores Umbridge was dead.

Another whimper from Minerva brought Hermione back to reality, and she dropped the borrowed wand on the ground and rushed over to her lover. "Are you okay?"

Minerva's face was stained with tears. "Damnit Hermione!"

Hermione wasn't sure if the tears were related to the pain she was in, or in response to what she'd just done to Delores, but it really didn't matter. Either way it was her fault. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "You can give me hell later, but right now we need to get you to Poppy."

Minerva gasped and clutched her stomach again. "Shit…" she muttered.

Hermione reached into Minerva's pocket and pulled out a Portkey that Poppy had given them a few weeks prior so they could get to the Hospital Wing quickly if Minerva went into labor. The sixteen year old didn't know if this was labor or not, but it was certainly a good reason to get to Poppy fast.

"Anura," Hermione said, holding tightly to Minerva. The Portkey activated and a few seconds later, Hermione found herself breaking Minerva's impact with the Hospital Wing's floor, though the jolt still did not do any favors for Minerva.

"Agghh!" she screamed.

"POPPY!" Hermione called.

"What happened?!" Poppy asked, rushing toward them.

"She was attacked," Hermione said. "Hit with a stunning spell."

"Oh sweet Merlin," the Matron muttered. "Of all the bloody things…"

"Is she okay?" Hermione demanded.

"Okay as a woman in labor is," Poppy snapped. "Looks like you guys are going to be parents a bit sooner than planned. This little girl is ready to come out now."

"Now?"

"Now," Poppy repeated. "As in help me get her on the bed, she's already entirely dilated."

Hermione assisted Poppy in moving her lover to the nearest bed, and stripping the older witch's lower half as quickly as possible. Minerva, who had been fading in and out of consciousness since they'd gotten there, woke with a start as new contraction overcame her.

"What the HELL is going on?!" she screamed, trying to sit up.

"You're having a baby," Hermione replied, forcing Minerva to lay back down.

"NOW?"

"Yes, now," Hermione confirmed.

"Right now," Poppy said. "Push, Minerva."

"Oh for the love of Merlin, you have to be…"

"PUSH, Damnit!" Poppy shouted.

And Minerva pushed. Hermione held her hand tightly, refusing to complain about the fact that her lover had a _very firm_ grip. "You can do it, love," she said.

"Oh, god," Minerva panted, bracing for another contraction.

"And again!" Poppy instructed.

And Minerva pushed again, in too much pain to question.

Hermione peeked at where Poppy was positioned, and saw a tiny head resting in the Matron's hands.

"One more time, Minerva!" Poppy said excitedly.

And so one more time, Minerva pushed. Ten seconds later, an infant's scream resounded in the room.

"You did it, love!" Hermione whispered, leaning down and kissing Minerva. "You had a baby!"

"We had a baby," Minerva muttered. "We did, Hermione.

* * *

_June 14, 1996_

Minerva looked up as Hermione entered the Hospital Wing, followed by Harry Potter, Ron and Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood. The all looked a little worse for wear. Minerva was about to demand an explanation when Albus entered the room behind them.

"Poppy," he said to the approaching Maton. "Please see that these students are put right. I need to escort Mr. Black to Headquarters."

"What was Sirius doing here?" Poppy wanted to know.

"Mr. Potter and his friends had a bit of a run in with Voldemort this afternoon," Albus said. "Mr. Black and other stepped in to assist.

"WHAT?!" Minerva yelped.

"Minerva do calm down," Albus said, looked at his friend. "You'll wake that darling baby in your arms."

Minerva blushed, and clutched a sleeping Anura close. "Right," she muttered.

Albus took his leave a minute later, and the students were separated for treatment. As much as Minerva wanted to talk to Hermione right now and find out what the bloody hell had happened, she knew she couldn't without alerting the other students about their connection.

Half hour later, Hermione and the others left the Hospital Wing. Not long after they'd gone, Minerva heard the door open again, and Severus Snape stepped inside. To her surprise, he walked over to her.

"Good afternoon, Minerva," he said softly.

"Can I help you, Severus?" she asked suspiciously.

"Identical magical cores are a rare thing," he said. "And for love to come to fruition in such cases is rarer still."

Minerva clamped her lips tightly, now acutely aware of why he was there.

"I was a fool for not taking action when I realized that Lily was my match. I am…happy for you…that you had the courage to act on the love you felt," he whispered. "Congratulations, Minerva, on the birth of your daughter. Please give Miss Granger my regards."

And with that he turned and walked away, not waiting for a response. Stunned silence filled the room as Minerva adapted to the idea that of all people, Severus Snape was standing by her side and guarding her secrets as if they were his own. Grateful didn't even come close to describing what she felt for the man. Hermione was going to love this.

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**FIN.**

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**Please Review! Thank you all SO MUCH for your support through this story. I am utterly floored at how well this story was received, and I hope that the impending sequel lives up to your expectations. Like I said, I'm still plotting out the story to follow this, so if you have anything that you'd like to suggest (characters you'd like to see more of, plot ideas, etc), let me know and I'll see what I can do to accommodate! Again, thanks! -MNA-**


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